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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27386068">A Servant in Camelot - a reimagining and extension to 'Leon and the Servant'</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingdomchild/pseuds/kingdomchild'>kingdomchild</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Era, Class Differences, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Master &amp; Servant, Physical Abuse, Season/Series 01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:14:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>62,171</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27386068</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingdomchild/pseuds/kingdomchild</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin has been Arthur's manservant for only three weeks but the demands on him and his masters' heartless treatment of the boy have already caused him to reach breaking point. </p><p>This story picks up and extends the fanfiction 'Leon and the Servant' by Smcstrav.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>96</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/4380371">Leon and the Servant</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smcstrav/pseuds/Smcstrav">Smcstrav</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A few months ago, I found and devoured a Merlin fanfiction called ‘Leon and the Servant’ by Smcstrav. I don’t exactly know what it was about this story: the unique perspective of Sir Leon, the Merlin series 1 world extension, the link to historical reality in terms of the social structure and social justice, the realism, the characters…it was probably a combination of all of these and much more. Plus, I love hurt/comfort stories and this is probably the best one I have read.</p><p>After finishing the story, my mind was reeling and I HAD to write these extensions to the original idea. Smcstrav has kindly allowed me to write this story and I highly recommend you read theirs too!<br/>There are a lot of distressing scenes in the ‘hurt’ part of this story and I apologise if that is a trigger for people. Basically, I wanted to be truthful to Smcstrav’s story (you'll see that I have maintained some characters as well as wordings) while also extending it by answering questions left open.</p><p>Anyway, this is what my mind came up with and I hope you enjoy it. I have used Merlin’s perspective because I needed to get behind the scenes as it were to answer the questions left unanswered by Leon’s pov.</p><p>Disclaimer: I don’t own Merlin. ☹ The only original characters in my story are the Master of the Hunt, the Master of the Royal Gardens, the Captain, Graham and Clarke. Everyone else is taken either from Smcstrav’s story or the Merlin series.</p><p>  <span class="u">Please note: Part One is not an extension but rather an alternative version of chapter 9, because when I read it, I very much expected this to happen and it didn’t. So, this is me imagining that. </span></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Merlin’s sleep had been fitful at best and although he couldn’t remember any of his nightmares or the way he had thrashed around in his blankets feverishly, he awoke yet again in a state of distress and pain. He had a vague memory of having opened his eyes some time ago and Gaius giving him some cool water to drink before he had dropped back into restless shallow slumber.</p><p>His throat felt dry again and his face hot. He was aware of lying on his back and could feel the burning and angry sting of the punishments he had received since arriving in Camelot three weeks ago. Three weeks that now seemed like a lifetime to him. Three very exhausting, strenuous, humiliating and painful weeks. A dry sob heaved in his chest and aggravated the pain from his arm that had been bandaged and rested in a sling on his chest.</p><p>Another silent sob followed and Merlin’s eyes started to leak again. He had forgotten the last day when his eyes hadn’t been leaking, when he hadn’t cried like a girl, as Arthur liked to say, at least once a day. Nowadays, anything could set him off and he would have been concerned had he had any time to think about this lachrymose state of affairs.</p><p>Slowly, gingerly, Merlin turned his head to the side to see Gaius sitting in his chair, clearly worn out and asleep. Merlin’s lips quivered. Now he had caused the dear old man worry and extra work and he had so wanted to keep him out of this, to keep him from finding out and being embarrassed by the mess his ward had made of his role as a servant in the castle. Surely, he would now write to his mother to complain about Merlin, to witness to the fact that, apart from his magic, the boy had no talent for anything and it would have been better for everyone in the castle had he stayed in Ealdor with the peasants, where he clearly belonged.</p><p>Merlin had to agree, had silently agreed oh so many times since coming to Camelot and becoming Arthur’s manservant. He was a failure at everything here and although he had been determined to learn and give his best and be good, it wasn’t enough, resulting in people being affected and made angry by his ineptitude. The dragon had told him it was his destiny to look after Arthur, to serve him, to make sure that he became this fabled king to unite Albion. It was the first time he had ever felt like there was a purpose, an aim to his existence, a greater plan explaining why he had magic, other than to cause his mother worry, grief and heartache. A destiny other than to eventually be burned at the stake.</p><p>It was what he had come to Camelot to find out and he had. And yet, no matter how he tried, his daily failure at completing even his normal servant duties and his aching back from bearing the consequences of it made everything seem hopeless. A destiny he could never fulfil.</p><p>He couldn’t even fulfil his responsibility towards his poor mother. He had abandoned her but had promised to send money. But this month, he would not be able to send a single coin because he had managed to break plates and glass jars that had to be paid for. He had no idea how he was to get money to pay Gaius for his food and room.</p><p>Suddenly, Merlin’s eyes snapped open in shock. The glass jars!</p><p>The scene at the market yesterday replayed in his mind, the Steward ordering him to see him right after he brought Arthur his breakfast, to discuss all his unfinished chores and take measures to prevent this from happening again. Merlin knew what that meant, what was awaiting him this morning.</p><p>“Yes, Sir. I…I will be there,” Merlin had mumbled in reply yesterday. Now, the boy began to tremble violently. The bright light shining through the windows into Gaius’ chambers indicated that the time of breakfast was long past and not only had Merlin omitted to deliver breakfast to the Prince but also to be on time in the Steward’s office to receive his punishment.</p><p>
  <em>No, no, no, no, no! </em>
</p><p>Merlin forced himself to sit up on the bed and gritted his teeth to avoid any noises of pain that threatened to escape. He couldn’t wake Gaius because the physician would surely order him to stay in bed and then the Steward would be even more furious and his retribution more terrible. Maybe he’d even come find Merlin here and Gaius would have to watch as…</p><p>Merlin shuddered and, as he stood on his feet, struggled to maintain his balance, almost tumbling back down. I have to, he told himself and managed to regain a steadier stance. He looked down at his bandaged arm, then began to unpeel the bandages. He could not risk the Steward accusing him of trying to appear weak and frail on purpose! In the early days, Merlin had once mentioned to the Steward that his back was still sore from yesterday’s correction and that his muscles were tired from morning training with the Prince. He had hoped that it would help the Master understand his situation, perhaps soften his blows somewhat.</p><p>But it had backfired spectacularly.</p><p>“You insolent, lying brat,“ the Steward had shouted. “Do you think that I don’t know about the wiles of you country peasants? Do you take me for an idiot? How dare you insult me like this and pretend to be in pain to escape your just punishment?”</p><p>Merlin had been so shocked at the Master’s anger, he had only managed to stammer, “I am sorry, Sir, I didn’t…please - “</p><p>“For your attempt to deceive me and your disrespect, you will be dealt double the number of strokes I had planned for you!”</p><p>Merlin had then received his harshest beating so far and while he desperately tried to hold in his tears and cries of pain, he berated himself silently for angering the Master. He vowed he would never do so again.</p><p>Yet, it had been no use and no matter what he did and how he tried to appease, his beatings from all his masters continued to become more forceful and violent with each day.</p><p>Shuddering again at the thought of his recent transgressions and what they would bring him this morning, Merlin managed to move to the door silently, opened it and stepped out into the corridor without waking Gaius. The exertion left him panting, leaning against the wall. But he needed to keep going. The more time he wasted, the longer he would have to spend in the Steward’s office. Dizzy and holding onto the side of the wall with his good hand, Merlin stumbled onwards, trying to ignore the swimming before his eyes and the throbbing in his back, head and arm.</p><p>Coming to Camelot, he had not been surprised that servants were disciplined for failing in their duties. He had expected this though he had not thought it would happen so very frequently. His mother had beaten him, too, of course, but very rarely and almost not at all as he became older.</p><p>If he had done something wrong, she would always sit him down and ask him about his reasons. She would explain patiently why he had been at fault and sometimes, when his transgression was grave enough, she would say that she would have to administer a beating so that he would learn to be better. She would then send him out to cut a fresh and green switch from one of the trees and he received his punishment when he returned.</p><p>Naturally, Merlin had not liked those situations but he could not remember a time when he could ever have argued against his mother’s judgement. She was loving and never meted out more than he deserved.</p><p>When he grew older, he realised that the time he needed to cut the switch was invaluable for him to think over what he had done and, inevitably, come to the conclusion that his mother’s judgement was fair. He had told her about these revelations one night, on a day when he had to be disciplined because he had performed magic in front of their house, almost giving away his secret. Those were far and large the only instances of misbehaviour his mother ever deemed grave enough to correct with the switch. And he understood why.</p><p>When Merlin told her, his mother smiled at him, stroking his cheek gently. “You are right, Merlin. It does give you time to think and I am glad to have such a humble, truthful son to admit his faults and appreciate his mother’s concern and love for him, even through a punishment.”</p><p>Merlin looked down momentarily, still ashamed of his acts this afternoon that had led to the switch.</p><p>“But, you know,“ she continued, “the time you take to cut the switch is also necessary for me because sometimes I am disproportionately angry and scared. However, in those few minutes, I am given space for all that to evaporate so that what you receive is only what you merited and I do not treat you more harshly because of an emotional overreaction.”</p><p>With that, she had kissed him where he lay on the floor and then tucked in his blanket around him. Merlin closed his eyes and thought her statement over. As a bastard, he did not have an easy life with the people in the village, yet he could not have asked for a better mother. She loved him and treated him fairly and kindly. Merlin never had a reason to fear her. He knew it was not like that for most of his friends.</p><p>Also, his mother was almost gentle in her use of the switch, either because she did not have the necessary strength or because her love for him prevented her from being too severe. He had learned this when he had taken on Will’s guilt and punishment some years later.</p><p>Only that morning, Will had come out of his hut, teary-eyed and with hunched shoulders, joining Merlin in their daily chore to collect fuel from the forest and bring in water. Merlin recognised that look. Will’s father was a cheerful and lively man. The boys loved to be around him when he was in a good mood and Merlin looked up to him almost as he would to a father. But he could have a nasty temper whenever someone angered him. He was one of the only people in the village, Merlin knew, who administered beatings with a strong cane instead of the more bearable green switch.</p><p>“What happened?” Merlin had asked in concern, taking Will’s water bucket to help his friend to better support himself.</p><p>Will’s white lips tightened and he struggled for a moment to speak through his pain. “I managed to drop all the eggs that he wanted to sell at the market in Hunsford today. I was meant to load them on the oxen cart but I tripped and broke every single one of them.”</p><p>That was bad, Merlin knew. A large part of the food Will’s family ate during the week came through exchanging their eggs at the market in the neighbouring village. They might have to go hungry for a few days.</p><p>“Was it…very bad?” Merlin asked as the two boys came to the well.</p><p>“No.” Will shook his head. “Only five. He had to go to the market and threatened me with more when he returns. But I know that he won’t be angry anymore when he comes back in the afternoon.”</p><p>Despite it all, the boys exchanged a smile at this and then went and completed their chores. By noon, Will was his old self again and Merlin’s mother allowed her son to take some food over to Will’s house in the afternoon to share. Excited by the luxury of a few extra apples and some bread in the afternoon, the boys had been merry and chatty and it had gone to their heads.</p><p>Although as poor as anyone else in the village, Will’s father owned one thing more precious to him than anything: an old suit of chainmail and coloured tabard. He had worn it in the army and all his best stories came from his time there. At that point, no one had known that the army would also be where his very last story would find its end.</p><p>Many a time, Will and Merlin had stood gazing admiringly at the silver-polished mail shirt, had ghosted their fingers over the brightly coloured garment, not daring to touch in earnest. Then, they had played knights. And knights was what they began to play that afternoon as well. Old sacks, stashed away long ago for just such a purpose, became their suits of armour, long sticks from the firewood the boys had collected in the morning became their swords. Mighty horses of air were ridden far and wide to achieve impossible quests, defeat monsters and rescue the fairest ladies of the court (both Will and Merlin had agreed that they would look very like Hunith and Brenda, Will’s own late mother). From time to time, Will suggested that they would fight sorcerers and although Merlin was always shaken by what this proposition implied, he knew his friend didn’t know about him, so his suggestion was innocent and only echoed what he heard from all around them.</p><p>However, Merlin could never bring himself to call the game simply ‘knight fighting sorcerer’. Instead, he always maintained the epithet ‘evil sorcerer’. It wasn’t much but this was one distinction he felt particular about. Will had never commented on this. Maybe he had never noticed. For him, ‘sorcerer’ and ‘evil sorcerer’ were synonymous anyway.</p><p>That day, Merlin had been the knight to defeat Will, the malicious sorcerer, and after Merlin had dealt him a quick killing blow, although Will had complained that it would be more dramatic to burn him on the pyre, he was to be honoured by King Uther Pendragon himself. Suddenly, the boys’ play stilled – they did not have an adequate costume for a king. He had to be better looking than Sir Merlin, that was for sure. For a moment, the boys looked at each other helplessly, then Will’s eyes turned in sudden excitement towards his father’s battle gear.</p><p>“No!” Merlin warned immediately. “We can’t touch that. Don’t, Will!”</p><p>But Will had already gone over to the piece, raised to be admired on a wooden pole and crossbar. His fingers stroked over the material.</p><p>“Come on, Merlin.” His bright eyes turned back to his friend. “We need this for King Uther. Don’t worry.” He began to carefully pull the mail shirt and tabard off the poles. Merlin’s heart jumped into his mouth and began to pound there ominously.</p><p>“Besides,” Will continued, already pulling the precious garments over his head, “I have touched these loads of times and my father has never noticed. He is at the market until early evening and if we just put it back just like we found it, he will never know.”</p><p>King Uther Pendragon in all his splendour and terror was now looking pleadingly at Merlin. And Merlin very much wanted to be congratulated by the King for his knightly deed.</p><p>“Al…Alright then. But we’ll hang it back as soon as the ceremony is over.”</p><p>Will nodded enthusiastically and the boys resumed their play; the battle gear provided the most wonderful gravitas to the scene of Sir Merlin’s reward and commendation.</p><p>Suddenly, the sparse light in the cabin was blocked out by someone in the doorway and an outraged shout had the boys freeze. Will’s father had returned, earlier than expected, probably due to the fact, as Merlin despairingly realised, that today there had been no eggs to exchange.</p><p>The moment of silence was terrible; both boys trembled when finally Will’s father began to move towards them, very slow, very threatening, his fierce temper clearly already way beyond boiling point. His eye was turned mainly on Will who was still dressed as King Uther and now quaked under the violent gaze of his father.</p><p>Merlin suddenly remembered that he had already been beaten in the morning. Most likely, the majority of the force of his father’s ire would land on the already tender back of his friend while Merlin might receive something far less severe. Probably, Will’s father would escort him back to Merlin’s home to tell Hunith and to let her deal with her son.</p><p>“Take it off!” Will’s father commanded sharply and both boys immediately took off their costumes. Merlin hadn’t been sure whether the order had included him, but he didn’t want to enrage the man further by appearing disobedient. When their everyday clothes had re-emerged, Will’s father gently and carefully took his battle gear and restored it to its proper place of honour. He inspected and stroked it so tenderly that the boys could have been fooled into thinking he had forgotten about their misdeed. But they could see his shoulders shaking in fury, even when he was turned away from them.</p><p>Finally, the man turned back towards the quivering miscreants.</p><p>“What have I told you about my battle garments, William?“ his father’s thundering voice cracked over Will’s head like a whip and Merlin made a sudden rash decision.</p><p>“I am so sorry, Mr Peele,” Merlin jumped up suddenly, drawing the man’s attention. “I made Will take the mail shirt and tabard, I suggested it. I made him do this even though I knew he was not allowed to.” It was so hard to stand his ground when Will’s father stepped towards him, towering over him threateningly.</p><p>“Merlin, no!” Will shouted but before either boy could move to say more, his father had violently backhanded his son across the face.</p><p>“Silence! I shall deal with you later.” Will had been thrown to the ground and tried to suppress a sob. The man’s eyes returned to Merlin’s pale face. “Will, go and fetch the cane from the chicken coop. Now!” The final shout stilled Will who had moved to protest again.</p><p>Frightened, Will locked eyes with Merlin who gave him the slightest shake of the head he could manage. Then he went out to the chicken coop where the cane had been left after the morning’s punishment.</p><p>When Will had gone, his father wordlessly directed Merlin over to the wooden table. Merlin obliged silently, afraid to anger the man more than necessary. Then they both stopped and waited for Will to return.</p><p>“Merlin! I have never thought that you being a bastard was a reason to prevent your friendship with Will. I have never thought that being born out of wedlock made someone automatically a bad influence.”</p><p>Merlin looked at his feet in shame, his face growing red.</p><p>“Do not prove me wrong.”</p><p>A trembling nod.</p><p>“I will overlook this once, but if I see you leading my son to misbehave again, I shall not permit you two to speak to each other ever again, do you understand?”</p><p>Another nod. Merlin noticed that his hands were shaking.</p><p>“I would not normally do this myself. Ordinarily, I would go to your mother to leave her to deal with you as you deserve. But you have dared to disrespect my wishes and caused my son to break my rules concerning my property. It is now my right to make sure that this will never happen again.”</p><p>Merlin nodded once again, agreeing. He was almost glad that his mother didn’t need to do this. Although, undoubtedly, she would hear of it.</p><p>Faint footsteps could be heard approaching from the chicken coop.</p><p>“Sir, please,“ Merlin pleaded quietly. Will’s father looked slightly surprised to be addressed but nevertheless seemed willing to listen. “Please do not beat Will for this. It was all my fault so I must take all the punishment. Please?”</p><p>Merlin couldn’t say that the man’s fury was necessarily abating. But Merlin’s request appeared to have made him consider.</p><p>“Very well, Merlin. I won’t lay a hand on Will for this, as you asked. But my son will still watch as it will be a useful reminder for him what listening to bad advice may result in.” The final sentence was directed at Will who was now standing white-faced in the doorframe, gripping the heavy cane tightly.</p><p>No more words were spoken. Will’s father gripped Merlin’s shoulder and turned him towards the table. Then he pressed down so that Merlin’s upper half lay along the flat of the table’s surface. Merlin bit his lip and screwed up his eyes when the first stroke fell, determined not to make it worse for Will to watch this. It’ll soon be over, the pain will soon be over, he kept telling himself.</p><p>He doubted it was the worst punishment Will’s father had ever dealt out. Perhaps the fact that Merlin had admitted his guilt so quickly and pleaded for his friend to be spared had given the man a short moment to calm his temper.</p><p>It was, however, still the worst beating Merlin had ever received and he later reflected that caning was certainly more painful than the switch. He had also never been beaten by a man before and realised that the blows were delivered with a far heavier hand than that of his mother.</p><p>After it was over and Merlin had rubbed the tears off his cheeks, Will’s father had escorted Merlin over to their hut and told Hunith of her son’s transgressions. Merlin stood in shame and silence but was not afraid of her as he was of Will’s father at this moment. Whatever his mother would do to him, he knew he could trust her to be fair and just.</p><p>That evening, after gently rubbing a salve into the red, swollen welts on Merlin’s backside, his mother was stroking his hair and saying how proud she was of her son having been brave for his friend. That was all the reward and all the acknowledgement Merlin had needed and he felt much more fortunate than Will, whom they had left sunken, pale and shaking by the wall after Merlin’s punishment.</p><p>He might be a bastard, Merlin reflected, but he was still blessed with one parent that was loving and caring beyond any he knew.</p><p>That had been the last time he had been beaten in Ealdor and that had been years ago. To be fair, Merlin had very much expected it to happen when he confessed to his mother that Will had seen him use magic, that his friend knew he was a sorcerer.</p><p>But his mother had not beaten him, had not sat him down to explain what he had done wrong. Instead, she began to cry and then to frantically grab their bags and begin to pack, to prepare to flee to save her son from being executed by the authorities or lynched by the village. Merlin realised afterwards that she must never have forgotten the stories he told her about Will and him playing knights that fight evil sorcerers. He realised that she must have expected Will to out him immediately or to turn game into reality and try to kill his former friend. Will was now strong and broad where Merlin was tall and slender; it wouldn’t have been too difficult for the friend to overpower her son.</p><p>But Will hadn’t reacted that way. He had been shocked and confused and angry and for a moment Merlin had indeed thought that he would need to take out his best friend with his magic and run. But then he realised that Will’s anger was caused by the fact that Merlin hadn’t told him, hadn’t told him all those years.</p><p>“Why didn’t you trust me?“ Will had shouted. “I thought we were friends.”</p><p>Then Will’s face had gone pale and shocked.</p><p>“It’s because…it’s because I always wanted to play knights defeating sorcerers, isn’t it?” Strangely, Will’s voice had become pleading. “Is that why you thought you couldn’t trust me? Did you think that I would also hate you and kill you? Or tell someone?”</p><p>“No!” Merlin had answered with emphasis. “I never thought you really meant that…that you meant me. And even if you had, it’s what everyone thinks of sorcerers anyway, so why should I have been surprised if you felt that way. Maybe I was afraid sometimes but, Will, I’ve been afraid someone would find out all my life and of all the people, I would always have chosen you to know my secret. You’re my friend and you stuck with me even when so many others treated me badly because I don’t have a father.”</p><p>“So you wanted to tell me?”</p><p>“Ye… Yes? Sometimes I thought about it. But I couldn’t.”</p><p>“Why?” Will asked, puzzled.</p><p>“I had promised my mother,“ Merlin said simply. “I think she made me promise even before I could speak. And you know…,“ he added with hesitation, “if someone found out about me, she would also burn.”</p><p>Merlin realised by the shock in Will’s face that what he had said, to a normal person, must have sounded so inconceivable, so terrifying. And it was. But Merlin had learned to live and hide with that terror. In a very disturbing way, it had become normal to him.</p><p>Then Will had stepped towards Merlin and threw his arm around his friend’s shoulders as they had always done, “Well, no one will know and they won’t find out through me. I’d rather die than be the reason you and your mother are executed.”</p><p>And Merlin smiled and wondered why he had ever doubted his friend.</p><p>His mother had been a slightly different matter, however. Although calming down significantly when Merlin had told her about Will’s promise, he realised that she nevertheless spent the next weeks in anxious worry. Each morning, he would have to let her know exactly where he went throughout the day and each night, he would have to be back inside the house well before sunset, well before the villagers gathered outside their huts for an after-work chat and gossip. Sometimes, she would come seek him out in the forest or the caves with Will, just to check that he was okay, hadn’t been discovered by someone else or been taken.</p><p>Naturally, Merlin understood her worry and it caused him great pain to be the cause of it. Yet then she had arranged for him to go to Camelot and he had not understood. Wasn’t that exactly where the dreadful King Uther lived, where his knights sought out sorcerers day and night?</p><p>But it was also where Gaius lived, an old friend of his mother’s and the only person who could help Merlin learn to control his magic and maybe discover a purpose for it. Hunith knew that he had been a sorcerer once but that he had survived and learned to not use his skills for many years, right under the nose and with the blessing of Uther Pendragon.</p><p>“If anyone can teach you how to survive, it is Gaius,” his mother had insisted as she helped him shoulder his backpack, tucking the letter firmly in between the rolls of his two spare shirts. “And Camelot might be a good place for you to witness the gravity of being discovered as a sorcerer as well, Merlin.” His mother’s face had been impossibly serious then and Merlin knew there was no getting out of it and, like everything she did, she had very good reasons for sending him into the lion’s den.</p><p>He had only been meant to stay in Camelot for a few weeks or months. Just enough to learn what his mother thought essential to keeping him safe. It had been in that spirit that he had kissed and hugged his mother and then said goodbye to Will who had walked a few miles with him.</p><p>“Well, go on then.” Will’s hand loosely indicated the path towards Camelot after the friends had shared a last hug. An unconvincing chuckle, “We don’t want your kind around here anyway.” Merlin tried to return a smile which was difficult as his friend was visibly struggling, swallowing down his emotions.</p><p>“I shall see you again soon.” He had meant it as a promise.</p><p>And then he had met the Prince, managed to get on his bad side, got jailed, landed in the stocks, fought the Prince again in the marketplace and then saved the prat’s life to be rewarded with the position as his manservant by the King himself. Oh, and a dragon had told him about his destiny, all within the space of three days.</p><p>It had all seemed so exciting and meaningful. So, how could he have messed things up so terribly, Merlin wondered as he continued his way through the castle, his knee where Alfred had kicked him during the river rescue more excruciating with each step, his heart throbbing more painfully with fear than the lacerations and welts on his back.</p><p>This was the final staircase, leading down to the Steward’s office and Merlin’s steps almost faltered. He didn’t…He couldn’t! He wasn’t sure he could endure another punishment. But he must for the sun was now full on his neck as he passed the window and Merlin was sure that it would soon be the hour of the servant’s lunch.</p><p>The head cook had been the first person in Camelot to beat him and she had only done it once. It had happened the very first evening he had been made Prince Arthur’s servant. Not having eaten at the feast and then spending a long, strenuous evening cleaning the Prince’s chambers when the prat outright refused to tell him where he would have to put things to make the room tidy (Merlin later learned that this was because the Prince simply didn’t know), Merlin had found his way to the kitchens, hungry. There was food left in a pot and he saw some dirty dishes so he assumed the servants still standing around, chatting, must have just eaten dinner. Locating a plate and spoon, he went over to the pot, lifted the lid and was just about to ladle some soup for himself, when a wooden object connected sharply with his head. Then, when he dropped both ladle and plate in shock, it had rained down several more blows on his shoulders before the attack on him abated and Merlin looked up with consternation at the cook, large and looming.</p><p>“What do you think you are doing down here? Who are you and how dare you steal the castle’s food? I can have you put in the stocks for that, thief!” she shouted.</p><p>Merlin scrambled up from the floor quickly and, trying to sound as apologetic as possible, had hurriedly explained that he was the Prince’s new manservant by appointment of the King and that he had just come from his duties and hadn’t had dinner yet.</p><p>At that, a broad-shouldered and tall man had ambled over to the two. His gait oozed confidence and authority and even before he introduced himself, Merlin could tell this was someone used to people obeying him without question or the consequences would be dire.</p><p>“In that case,” the man had said in a sharp tone – Merlin instinctively ducked his head – “you are obliged to take your meals at the appropriate mealtimes for servants. We keep to them strictly and if you miss them you will go hungry, do you understand?” The last was a bark and Merlin flinched slightly. He couldn’t remember many people who had spoken to him in that way. Only sometimes, when they would berate him for being a bastard. But most of that talk happened behind his and his mother’s back.</p><p>“Yes, Sir, I understand.”</p><p>“Good.” The man took a piercing look at Merlin and the boy tried to stand up a little straighter.</p><p>“What’s your name? Where have you come from and have you had a servant’s training, boy?” It sounded like an interrogation.</p><p>“Sir, my name is Merlin and I have come from Ealdor…it’s a village just outside the Camelot borders in Essetir.” The man snorted in displeasure at this.</p><p>“I don’t really know anything about being a servant, unfortunately.” Merlin suddenly felt terribly inadequate. Clearly, the man thought so too.</p><p>Turning to the others in the room, he gave them a bitter chuckle. “Great, so, once again, I am settled with a stupid country peasant who can’t tell water from mud. As if I didn’t have enough on my plate already. Probably a liar as well.”</p><p>Merlin felt his hackles rise. “Sir,” he said rather forcefully. “I am not a liar and I can learn quickly if someone tea…”</p><p>A slap silenced him immediately and the man came dangerously close.</p><p>“First lesson, do not be impertinent or disrespectful to your betters!” Merlin gave a scared nod. “Well, Merlin, you will report to me immediately tomorrow morning as I am the Castle Steward. So, you are under my jurisdiction and I will tell you your chores each day. You should know that I do not tolerate laziness or deceitfulness or tardiness. If you give me less than your best, you will be punished for it. If you need to be put in place, I will not hesitate to do so. Is that clear?”</p><p>“Yes, Sir,“ Merlin answered quickly, keen to leave the Steward’s menacing presence as soon as he could. Clearly, the man did not think much of unskilled peasants.</p><p>“Well, dinner time is long past as cook as hopefully made perfectly clear to you, so don’t let me or any of your other masters ever catch you stealing food again. Off to bed with you now and report to me in the morning.”</p><p>Merlin had scrambled out of the room quickly, only remembering halfway to Gaius’ chambers that he had no idea where the Steward’s office was located and that the Prince had also requested that Merlin would wake him and see to his needs first thing in the morning.</p><p>But I assume the Prince’s word must count more, Merlin thought.</p><p>As it turned out, he had been mistaken and from that evening, things had gone downhill.</p><p>Merlin had woken a grumpy Prince in the morning but had neglected to bring breakfast right with him. Merlin had had no idea that he was supposed to do that and felt deflated when the Prince called him a lazy idiot and lousy manservant. Clearly, he was as unhappy about the King’s arrangement as Merlin was.</p><p>The Prince then ordered another servant to fetch some breakfast for him and told Merlin to go down to the armoury to collect his armour.</p><p>“Oh, and make sure it’s polished, Merlin. And get some protective gear for yourself as well. I will start training you today.”</p><p>It all sounded strange and ominous.</p><p>It took almost twenty minutes and directions from four different people until Merlin located the armoury. But he realised his difficulties when he stood on the threshold, looking at a room full of different pieces of plate, weaponry and materials clearly meant to clean them. But Merlin had only ever seen sacks and sticks and had no idea what to bring the Prince. Mistakenly, he had then assumed that the Prince’s armour would be labelled and had proceeded to lift up, turn over and examine each piece. Admittedly, he had created a bit of a mess by the time the large man from the night before arrived.</p><p>“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” The helmet Merlin had just examined landed with a deafening clatter on the floor. Merlin froze in shock as he saw the Steward’s face grow red with fury as he took in the state of the armoury.</p><p>Then he moved very quickly, taking Merlin by the shoulder of his jacket and began shaking him.</p><p>“Answer me, you imbecile! And where were you this morning? I expected you in my office to pick up your duties for the day and you failed to show up. Do you think I would allow you to shirk your duties and to upset the entire armoury?”</p><p>“Sir, I am sorry, really, I wasn’t sure where to find you and the Prince…” The Steward pushed Merlin hard against the stone wall and the hit to his head silenced the boy immediately.</p><p>“Do not lie to me! Do not think you can use the Prince as an excuse for your failures or I swear it will be worse for you.” There was a pause. “I can see that you will have to be taught everything, including manners. So, for your failure to report to me, your attempt at lying to me and for your backtalk, you shall receive five strokes of the cane.”</p><p>Merlin stared at the man, mortified. “Please, Sir, don’t. I didn’t mean –“</p><p>“Let’s make that seven for continued defiance.”</p><p>Merlin was silent, staring at the substantial wooden rod the man carried in one hand. The Steward noticed the look then seemed to make up his mind about something.</p><p>“Right, I will give you another chance.” Merlin looked up to the man with renewed hope.</p><p>“I am not in the habit of punishing servants where all eyes can see. When I mete out punishments, servants will come to me directly after dinner time and receive their just deserts in my office. Because I believe you need the incentive now, I shall administer three strokes. Then you are expected to clean up the entire armoury and polish all the swords. Afterwards you may continue your chores for Prince Arthur. In the evening, after dinner, you will come and see me. If you are on time, I shall count this as proof of your willingness to do better in the future and will give you only two further strokes. If not…I would not test my patience, boy.”</p><p>Merlin nodded frantically. It wasn’t what he had hoped for when the Steward had mentioned another chance, but he realised that he had failed in his duties and that he was deserving of punishment.</p><p>The man then had him stand bracing against the wall and had struck him three times. Merlin, by some miracle, had managed not to cry out but the sudden, flaring pain made tears shoot into his eyes. This man’s arm was stronger even than that of Will’s father.</p><p>When it was over, the Steward had warned Merlin once again to heed his commands and be diligent, then he left the servant. Merlin felt forlorn and realised that although his back was now smarting and there would be more to come this evening, he still did not know the servants’ mealtimes or where the Steward’s office was or how he needed to set the armoury to rights or polish swords. And the Prince was waiting too.</p><p>“I don’t think anyone ever had a worse first day on the job,” Merlin had announced to the empty room – which turned out to be not empty after all. A curly-haired man had walked in. He had an open face and wore a red cloak and Merlin realised with a start that this must be a knight.</p><p>“Now, now, I’m sure it can’t be all that bad.” The knight laid a comforting hand on Merlin’s shoulder which, unfortunately, made the boy flinch a little in pain.</p><p>“Don’t be scared,” assured the knight, backing off slightly. “I am Sir Leon. What’s your name?”</p><p>There was definite kindness in his voice and Merlin drank it up like fresh spring water. “I’m Merlin, Sir.”</p><p>“Ah, the Prince’s rescuer and new manservant. A brave act, indeed, young man. We all owe you our thanks.”</p><p>Merlin blushed at this.</p><p>“Now, what has you so upset on this beautiful day?”</p><p>And because the knight spoke softly and because he seemed willing to listen, Merlin confided in him. Not everything. He didn’t want this kind knight to know that he had needed correction on his very first morning on the job. But he told him that he had no idea how to put the armoury to rights or how to polish swords or what armour the Prince would want for himself.</p><p>Then the friendly man had taken a whole ten minutes to show Merlin around the armoury, explain where each part of the armour and weaponry sat, what cleaning materials were used for what purpose and also to point out the special shelf reserved for the Prince’s armour. Of course, Merlin had been stupid. Naturally, the Prince’s armour wouldn’t be mixed in with all the rest. There was also a special place for training armour that could be used by anyone.</p><p>Then the knight had to hurry off to the training fields but with his help, Merlin had managed to tidy up quickly and then to polish the swords as best as he could. The task was made slightly easier as a fair few knights arrived to pick up their swords, arguing that they would get their squires to clean their weapons after training. At last, a fellow servant had arrived – Rupert – who had finally answered Merlin’s questions concerning mealtimes and also described the way to the Steward’s office. Rupert gave him a pitying look as he left the place shortly afterwards.</p><p>Around lunchtime, Merlin had finished polishing the rest of the swords and the Prince’s armour, hoping that he had remembered the correct cleaning procedure that Sir Leon had explained earlier. Heaving the iron plate towards the Prince’s chamber had been exhausting and Merlin was starting to get extremely hungry.</p><p>But entering the chamber, Merlin only narrowly avoided a goblet that had been launched at his head.</p><p>“Where have you been, Merlin?! I have been waiting for you for three hours. I missed the morning training session.”</p><p>“Sorry, Sire, I - “</p><p>“Luckily for you, the King had me attend a council meeting anyway. Unluckily for you, it was a very tedious and insufferably boring council meeting.” A dangerous smirk played around the Prince’s mouth. “Which means you get to train with me all afternoon. Where is your protective gear?”</p><p>In the end, Merlin was ordered to bring the Prince lunch first and, having missed the servant’s lunch hour, he was ashamed to swipe a roll from the leftovers on the Prince’s tray. Feeling slightly better, Merlin went to fetch some training gear for himself. Then he felt rather embarrassed as the Prince realised that Merlin had no idea how to put on armour.</p><p>“What on earth did you learn in that place you came from? How to play with kittens?”</p><p>Merlin, red-faced, hadn’t replied. But the Prince’s gaze had softened as he walked over to his desk and withdrew a heavy book from a shelf behind it.</p><p>“Here, Merlin. There will be a knights’ tournament starting tomorrow and you will learn all about battle gear and knightly etiquette from this.”</p><p>Then the Prince stopped, suddenly hesitating. “Oh! You can’t…maybe you could ask Gaius to read you the relevant chapters tonight, Merlin?”</p><p>Merlin noticed that slight patches of pink had appeared on the Prince’s cheek, almost as if he was ashamed of offering a book to a servant but forgetting that it was likely that the servant was illiterate.</p><p>Merlin began to smirk and picked up the book, flipping through the pages and admiring the colourful pictures on some of them.</p><p>“Well, Sire,” he said at last. “Since you did ask what I learned in the place I came from: apart from playing with kittens, my mother also taught me to read and write.”</p><p>Arthur looked dumbstruck, his mouth gaping open in comical astonishment. “Really, Merlin, you read? And write?”</p><p>Merlin huffed a soft chuckle, then answered mockingly, “I do indeed, Sire. I assure you, even a peasant’s brain is quite capable of learning such complex skills.”</p><p>Arthur still stared at him, clearly unaware that his mouth hung open.</p><p>“Sire, I observed a fly buzzing around your room earlier. For your own safety, I would suggest you close your mouth. Otherwise, you might involuntarily eat it!”</p><p>Arthur brought his teeth together with an audible snap and the pink of his cheeks intensified. Clearly aware of this and unused to being made fun of, a low grumble indicated to Merlin that he probably shouldn’t push the Prince further over the brink. He didn’t need another person furious at him.</p><p>Deftly, he tucked the tome under his arm and gave a slight, appeasing bow. “Thank you, for the book, Sire. I’m sure it will be very helpful to learn about armour and knightly…er…stuff.” Merlin grimaced, having clearly given away his own ignorance about such matters.</p><p>But this, more than anything, seemed to have calmed the Prince’s simmering anger.</p><p>“Make sure you study it by tomorrow, Merlin. I don’t want to be embarrassed again.” Then a guard, which the Prince called into his room, helped the Prince into his armour and also assisted Merlin.</p><p>Training hadn’t been half-bad but Merlin had taken rather a lot of hits on the head which slightly aggravated the pressure caused by being shoved against the wall earlier. His back was still a little sore and Merlin noticed that his movements were rather stiff, a fact which seemed to amuse and motivate the Prince.</p><p>Before dinner, Merlin was able to return to Gaius’ chambers to study tournament etiquette and have his tense shoulders be treated by the physician. He made sure, however, to keep his shirt on. Gaius didn’t need to see the weals he had received on his very first day. Likely, he would be disappointed and tell his mother.</p><p>For the first time, Merlin was able to abide by the servants’ dinner time and felt very satisfied, although his stomach became ever more queasy as the end of the dinner hour approached.</p><p>It’s only two more strokes, he told himself. It’s nothing and the Steward will see my good will.</p><p>Fairly calm and ready, Merlin wandered towards the office and was about to knock on the door, when a gruff voice called his name.</p><p>“Merlin, Prince Arthur is waiting for his dinner! He made me go and look for you, so, thanks very much for that.” And the boy was clipped around the head by the unfamiliar guard.</p><p>Merlin looked uncertainly at the Steward’s door, hesitating. He didn’t like the prospect of making the man wait for Merlin to arrive.</p><p>‘Come on, the Prince has demanded that you appear with his dinner right away!”</p><p>“But…,” Merlin still hesitated. The Steward or Arthur?</p><p>However, at this the guard grasped the vexed boy strongly by his upper arm and began to drag him away towards the kitchens. Merlin stumbled after him, biting his lip in worry.</p><p>But the farther away from the Steward’s door the guard dragged him, the more Merlin moved his legs towards the kitchen on his own accord.</p><p>He was the Prince’s manservant, after all. And the Prince, if provoked, might do much worse to him than the Steward. He’d simply have to hurry to the Prince very quickly, deliver his food and then return here. It was a delay of hardly more than ten minutes.</p><p>But Merlin had been wrong and became increasingly agitated as Arthur kept giving him new tasks to do in his room. Finally, the Prince even wanted a bath and it was gone midnight when the Prince had allowed him to leave. As Merlin closed the door silently, Arthur mumbled a soft, “Goodnight, Merlin,” before turning over in bed. Merlin had been surprised by this. Maybe the Prince wasn’t quite as bad as he had thought. The Prince’s wish to bid him a good night was rather touching.</p><p>But Merlin’s warm feelings had dissipated soon and turned into a state of acute panic when the Steward’s office was completely dark. The man had clearly gone to bed already and Merlin did not want to risk waking him. Perhaps it was better to go first thing in the morning and take four strokes instead. Who knew what an enraged and sleep-drunken man would do to him?</p><p>So, as planned, Merlin had awoken very early, in time to receive his punishment and also bring Arthur his breakfast. With quick steps and almost too sleepy to fully realise what was awaiting him, the boy had reached the Steward’s door and knocked timidly. Immediately, the door was thrown open and he was pulled inside by the collar of his jacket before the man had even heard the meek “Good morning” Merlin had uttered.</p><p>The man had dragged Merlin over to the table where lay his cane, then pushed him face-first towards the wall. There was no word of warning before the cane ran violently across Merlin’s back, much stronger than yesterday. Merlin couldn’t help it. He whimpered and shuddered under the onslaught that seemed to only grow in force. Only four, only four, he told himself over and over. He had to abandon it when the count had reached seven, his mind unable to focus on anything but the pain. Although his eyes were shut tightly, tears flowed down his face, mixing with his snot and the blood on his mouth caused by Merlin’s attempt to stifle any sounds by biting his lips. Finally, with a last severe blow, the beating stopped as abruptly as it had begun and Merlin was forcibly turned around, his injured back pressed against the wall behind him.</p><p>The Steward loomed over the quaking boy. “Do not, ever, disregard my commands again! I am not interested in the lies you have concocted to excuse your failure to turn up last evening or your frankly appalling job at polishing the swords in the armoury. I told you before, I will not be crossed. You have felt my ire, boy. Do not provoke it again or I shall begin to use more severe methods of punishment, do you understand?”</p><p>Merlin swiped at his eyes weakly but nodded. He did not dare to look the man in the eyes.</p><p>“Apart from your duties to the Prince, you shall wash all the windows in the guest chambers of the west wing. I shall not allow you to slack off watching a tournament while the other servants pull your weight as well as theirs. In the evening, you shall report to me and I will judge whether your work is satisfactory or merits further punishment.”</p><p>Again, Merlin nodded but a tight grasp on his jaw forced his face up to meet the Steward’s.</p><p>“Are you mute as well as dumb, boy? You shall answer me politely or I can turn you around and teach you better manners right here and now. Don’t think my arm has grown tired.” At this, he raised the cane threateningly over Merlin’s head, causing the boy to flatten himself against the wall as best as he could.</p><p>“No, no, Sir, please. I’m sorry. Of course, I understand your orders. I shall be here this evening.”</p><p>“You better make sure you will be.” With that, Merlin was manhandled again and thrown out of the door. As he looked up, his heart stopped for a beat. A large number of servants, all ready to receive the day’s duties, were waiting just outside the door and each one must have heard Merlin’s terrible punishment and the words the Steward had shouted at him. Merlin wished to disappear in humiliation and although he noticed some tried to give him an encouraging smile, none spoke to him or consoled him. They are right, of course, Merlin thought as he made his way out of the corridor as quickly as possible. Who’d want to be friends with such a failure of a servant. I am causing everyone to have more work and I infuriate the Master even before breakfast.</p><p>Stopping in a secluded alcove, Merlin tried to move his aching back and shoulders. The Prince couldn’t know about this…the Prince! It was so much later now than Merlin had anticipated when he had gone to the Steward’s office. The Prince would be mad because his breakfast was late. Well, he would just have to hurry and bear his pain in silence in order to finish all his chores today. Perhaps, in the evening, the Steward would be more kind. He would see that Merlin had tried.</p><p>Yet that day, Merlin could not complete any of his tasks for the Steward. The Prince required him at the tournament and afterwards gave him an almighty list of chores which Merlin, in the end, could only complete using magic in his room. He was also nearly caught by Gaius. When Merlin arrived once again late at the Steward’s door, preparing an explanation as to why he had failed to wash the windows, the boy had already known that it was unlikely the Steward would listen to him. He never dared to say his piece, fearing an even harsher beating because of supposed impudence. Another ten strokes were painfully laid across his back that evening and Merlin began to sleep on his belly to avoid aggravating his wounds.</p><p>The next days passed quickly and painfully for Merlin. A certain Knight Valiant required Merlin to investigate in secret to protect his Prince when he should have been washing floors or cleaning the dishes. He often could not keep to mealtimes and although Gaius didn’t mind if Merlin shared his dinner or breakfast from time to time, the boy was aware that he would be expected to pay for it. He had not yet received any of his promised thirty silver a month and grew more embarrassed every day to eat the good man’s food without contributing financially.</p><p>Since Merlin was almost never able to report to the Steward at night or in the mornings, the Master soon began administering punishments when and wherever he checked on the boy. And he checked on him frequently and there seemed to be no task that Merlin could complete on time or to the man’s satisfaction. It was worse for Merlin when he was grabbed and disciplined in front of other servants. They watched him being beaten for tardiness, laziness, for disrespect and lack of diligence time and time again and Merlin withered both under the blows as well as with the humiliation. He also feared that word might find its way back to Gaius or Arthur or even the King. If they found out how often he needed to be disciplined…he didn’t want to imagine what they would think or do to him.</p><p>On the fifth day, the Steward abandoned the cane, calling it ineffective as a method of correction for such a brat. It was the day of Merlin’s first hunting trip with Arthur and, just to make things more difficult for the servant, Arthur wanted to stay away overnight in order to hunt more deeply inside the forest. Having asked several servants for directions, Merlin had located the supply cupboard for both gear and food and he was fairly confident that he would be able to do this job well. After all, he himself had only just travelled by foot for several days from Ealdor to Camelot and knew what things were needed to survive in the forest. He assumed that the Prince would simply require more luxurious bedding and shelter as well as more plentiful food supplies.</p><p>The Steward came to check on Merlin as he was just taking two tents to store in his and the Prince’s travel bag. Immediately, the boy froze and watched the man approach with trepidation.</p><p>“What are you doing, boy?”</p><p>“I’m packing bags for the Prince and I, Sir. He wants to go hunting overnight.” Merlin really tried not to sound scared but his voice still came out only as a hoarse whisper. Would the Master find fault with him again? Merlin saw the cane in the Steward’s hand; the man was swinging it back and forth in impatience or warning.</p><p>The Steward then approached the Prince’s bag and peered inside. Merlin bit his lip so hard it hurt. Anxiously, he observed the man’s features, strict and forbidding. After a moment, the man wordlessly moved on to Merlin’s bag and the boy dared to breathe again. Could it be that the Master had not found anything at fault? Maybe he truly was improving.</p><p>But then Merlin’s breath caught in his chest when the Master began to frown and his face turned a wrathful red colour.</p><p>“Sir, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to –“ Merlin began stammering immediately, taking a step back to escape the hand that already lashed out to drag him towards the Steward. He was unsuccessful.</p><p>“You didn’t mean to disregard the rules for household servants, did you, boy? Didn’t mean to steal from the royal family, the knights and the nobility of the castle? I suppose you thought you were better than the rest of the staff and deserved to lie more comfortably while avoiding your regular duties in the castle and spending some nice leisure time in the forest!”</p><p>Merlin had begun shaking his head, frantically. “No, no, Sir. I don’t know what you’re talking about!”</p><p>The man threw him forcefully onto the flagstones.</p><p>“Are you telling me that you didn’t know that servants are not allowed access to the tents or the food supplies reserved for the nobility?” The cane wavered threateningly over Merlin’s face and the boy ducked his head and threw up an arm to protect himself.</p><p>“No, Sir. Honestly, I didn’t know. I swear. Please don’t, Sir!”</p><p>“Liar!”</p><p>“Sir, I wasn’t lying. I swear I didn’t know.”</p><p>The cane clattered onto the floor next to Merlin and the boy was certain that the towering figure would begin to batter him with his large fists. Instead, the Master grabbed his hair and pulled the boy up close to his face. Merlin’s scalp exploded with agonizing pain.</p><p>“So how come you apologised before I had even told you of it, eh, boy?”</p><p>Merlin feverishly searched for an explanation. He hadn’t known what he had done wrong when he had witnessed the distortion on the Steward’s face. It had made him so fearful he had only thought to apologise quickly in order to appease his Master. Once again, it had backfired on him.</p><p>The Steward smirked maliciously. “Caught you in your own trap, you devious little rat. You stay right where you are,” he then ordered Merlin. “Clearly the cane cannot teach you, so I will fetch something that I think you’ll find more persuasive and memorable.”</p><p>Still held by the tight grip on his hair, Merlin began to shake and his knees threatened to give out under him.</p><p>“Move a limb and I will double your punishment.”</p><p>Then the Master left and Merlin had not dared to do more than breathe rapidly, tears already streaming down his face in terrified anticipation of what the Master would do to him to correct this failing. When the man returned, he had found what he had been looking for and carried it coiled like a venomous snake in his hand.</p><p>For a while then, the Steward used a thick, strong rope, knotted with thongs of leather which whistled terribly before it hit Merlin’s back and inflicted a more acute and persisting agony than a cane would have caused. The Master also saw fit to increase the number of blows with each of Merlin’s transgressions. Of course, he never exactly knew how many he was dealt, couldn’t count beyond ten before the pain took over every part of his body and his shuddering limbs fought weakly to stay upright. With each day, the Master became more irate, the punishments more vicious. It was in the last days of Merlin’s second week in Camelot that the Master had furiously thrown the knotted rope into the fire Merlin had taken too long to build. He had also managed to spread ash on the floor and on some fine carpets all around the fireplace.</p><p>“Do you think you can fool me, you imbecile? All I see you do is in dereliction of your duties. How on earth could the King land me with such a failure? But if you think you can get away with this, boy, you are sorely mistaken.”</p><p>Merlin had stood trembling in terror, not daring to move, praying to anyone who would hear him that he would not be punished again…that he wouldn’t be punished too harshly. He had never learned how to build a fire in a castle grate, had only learned how to light it in their little hut at home.</p><p>
  <em>Mother, mother! Please, I want to go home.</em>
</p><p>Tears had once again already started running down Merlin’s white face. His frightened gaze unwillingly lifting to the Master to see what he would do to him next. He had burned the rope in fury. Would he be caned again?</p><p>When the Master began to unbuckle his large, solid leather belt, Merlin’s breath quickened impossibly. He knew he shouldn’t but he instinctively retreated a few steps. But the Steward had seen.</p><p>“Here,“ he barked and pointed at the back of a chair set by the table in the room. Merlin noticed that the Master gripped the leather end of the belt, leaving the sharp, iron buckle free to be brought down upon his back.</p><p>He didn’t mean to hesitate, really. He knew the Steward would see it as defiance. But he couldn’t help it. His lip quivered in terror and he began to clasp his hands in a pleading gesture.</p><p>“Please, please, Sir. Don’t use the belt. I know I’ve done wrong. I deserve the punishment. But please not this, Sir. I promise I’ll do better. Please, don’t, Sir.”</p><p>Then the Master’s strong arm had grabbed him by his pleading hands, slammed him against the back of the chair and began to thrash him so furiously that Merlin couldn’t help but cry out. He gripped the high back of the chair tightly, his fingers numb and shaking, as blow after blow of the iron buckle and leather strap landed violently along his back. It felt like he was being skinned alive or burned with a white-hot brand. There was nothing left but the agony and the horrible rhythm of the belt as it pounded and hurt and beat him. Holding on to the chair was the only thing that kept Merlin from collapsing then.</p><p>It had stopped eventually and Merlin hadn’t been able to move for a full five minutes. The pain had been overwhelming. Unbearable.</p><p>“So, boy, you had better learn from this. Now put that fire in order before you return to your chores for the Prince. Any failure, any insolence, any tardiness and you will feel my belt again.”</p><p>Knowing that a verbal reply was required if he did not wish a continuation of the beating, Merlin had forced out a whispered, “Yes, Sir.” Finally, the man walked away and Merlin stood for another few minutes before he felt he could move to put on his jacket and continue.</p><p>It had not been the last use of the belt.</p><p>The Steward was also not the only master who used beatings to punish and correct him.</p><p>Merlin had been surprised by the number and variety of duties he was expected to perform both as Arthur’s manservant and as part of the household staff. Apart from bringing the Prince his meals, helping him bathe and dress and keeping his room clean, the Prince also often asked him to look after his horses or to exercise his dogs.</p><p>Initially, Merlin had been particularly excited by the prospect of looking after the dogs. He had seen some in his life but no one in Ealdor was rich and powerful enough to own any. Like falcons, dogs were only owned by the aristocracy who had leisure and permission to hunt.</p><p>The Prince’s dogs were especially friendly with Merlin and the boy felt a sense of elation to exercise them in the fresh air, away from the eyes of the Steward, acutely aware that he caught the attention of several young kitchen maids and girls from the lower town. After all, the Prince had entrusted him with his precious dogs. And they are probably worth more than my own life, Merlin reflected. But then, his life as a secret sorcerer had never been worth much anyway.</p><p>All had gone well and the Master of the Hunt who looked after the royal dogs and falcons had even allowed him to brush and feed them at times.</p><p>Then one morning, for a reason Merlin still did not understand, the dogs suddenly took off at a run, their leashes escaping Merlin’s unprepared and weak arms easily. Off they went and Merlin chased after them, panting, but too slow as a recent beating from the Steward was still agitating his every move. When he finally caught up with the escapees, the dogs were barking fiercely at the falcons who fluttered around in panic, losing their feathers and trying to tear free from the leather thongs tying them to their perch. It had been absolute mayhem while the hunters and falconers tried to calm the animals and catch the dogs.</p><p>Merlin had stood motionless, watching as his namesakes – the castle owned a pair of magnificent merlins – had to be dragged back forcibly by their tethers. Finally, all had been put to rights and the Master of the Hunt, still furious and panting, had caught Merlin’s eye and wordlessly gestured the boy to follow him. Dejectedly and wondering what would happen to him, Merlin had trudged after the man, now avoiding the eyes of the same kitchen maids he had waved at earlier.</p><p>Merlin had to be grateful that the Master did not punish him where others could see. He took him to a sparsely lit storage room and then used a leather dog leash which he was still holding to discipline him. He wasn’t beaten as severely as the Steward would have dealt him, but the injuries from his previous punishments intensified the whipping and Merlin had groaned with the sting of every lash.</p><p>When it was over, the Master had ordered Merlin to sleep with the dogs that night in order to better understand his responsibility towards the King’s animals.</p><p>“By rights, they should sleep in your fancy room and you belong in their kennel.”</p><p>Merlin didn’t think to contradict him. Eyes cast on the floor and trying to suppress heavy sobs, he had agreed in a timid whisper, “Yes, Sir.”</p><p>It hadn’t actually been a terrible night. The animals had snuggled close to him and licked his face as he tried to find a comfortable position for his aching back in the straw. In fact, Merlin was sure that he had not received such loving, selfless attention since he had last hugged his mother.</p><p>Merlin’s other best friends in the castle were the horses, especially the Prince’s horse as well as the sweet gelding he had been allowed to ride on a few occasions. Both horses seemed to have taken to him from the start and Arthur, noticing this, had ordered his manservant several times to look after the steeds or muck out the stables. At first, Merlin had assumed that this involved only feeding and watering the beasts and, well, cleaning the stable; however, the Master of the Stables had made it quite clear to him that a lot more was expected.</p><p>Merlin had to be honest, if there was any part of his job that he knew least about, it was how to look after royal battle mounts and their tack. In the beginning, he would also have said that the Master of the Stables had been the most patient and predictable of his superiors. Naturally, his inexperience and ineptitude had earned him punishment here as well.</p><p>The Stable Master preferred to use a riding crop which smarted terribly but, Merlin felt, had been used with more restraint. The Master would take Merlin to the side, list his mistakes and then announce how many strokes Merlin would receive. It was agonising but it felt controlled, reliable. Afterwards, Merlin would beg the Master’s forgiveness and try again. He was inexperienced and no one taught him so Merlin had to try again many times and the Master had to count out many strokes on the shuddering boy’s back.</p><p>Then suddenly, for no reason that Merlin could discern at the time, the Master had lost all patience and restraint with him.</p><p>It had been a very good day for Merlin. He had not been punished that day as he had ridden out with the Prince and some of his knights on a patrol in the early morning. He knew that the Steward would likely be waiting to give him a long list of common duties which he would still have to complete on that very day, before any food or rest was allowed, so Merlin tried to hurry when looking after the horses and tack. He had just been about to leave the stables when the Master entered them, riding crop already in his hand.</p><p>“Well? Have you finished or will I find that you have been lazy again?”</p><p>Merlin noticed with a flutter of his heart that the man sounded more agitated than usual. Or perhaps more dangerous would be the better word.</p><p>Bowing respectfully and clutching his hands in front, Merlin muttered, “Yes, Sir, I am finished. I have fed and watered the horses, rubbed them down and cleared away the tack.”</p><p>The man had grunted impatiently at the boy and then moved to check minutely whether what Merlin had told him was the truth. Merlin had stood unmoving, only his eyes following the progress of the Master through his lashes.</p><p>The horses were inspected and no fault found. Merlin began to breathe more easily at that. The food and water troughs were checked, whether they had been filled with the right feed and all had been measured out correctly. The Master also moved on from there without comment. Then the saddles and tack were examined and the man ran his hand searchingly across the leather of the seat and the underside. He did not remark on anything and Merlin’s shoulders dropped in relief, a small smile beginning at the corners of his mouth.</p><p>Then he quaked as the Master raised a sudden cry of fury.</p><p>Merlin hunched his shoulders and drew in his head as the man was upon him in swift strides, grabbed him by the shoulder of his jacket and dragged him towards the cupboard with the cleaning materials.</p><p>“Explain this, you insolent, lazy sod!”</p><p>Merlin’s eyes raked the scene frantically and he began to hyperventilate. What was wrong with the picture? But the Master needed to be answered.</p><p>“Sir, please, I don’t know,” Merlin pleaded, daring to turn his frightened gaze towards the man. He hoped to see a spark of pity or understanding there but there was none. Only cold, unrestrained fury.</p><p>“Look closer!” Merlin was flung powerfully against the door of the cupboard and several flasks rattled on the shelves, a few turned over. Feverishly, Merlin tried to stand them upright but his shaking fingers only increased the chaos. Suddenly, the riding crop left a searing mark on the backs of his hands and Merlin withdrew them with a hiss.</p><p>“Answer me!”</p><p>Merlin was so panicked, he couldn’t quite remember what question the Master had asked him and he shook his head, eyes large and afraid, to show that he did not know what the Master wanted from him. Clearly, this was misunderstood by the man.</p><p>Grabbed once again by the shoulder, Merlin was turned around and the riding crop flared white-hot across his back in seconds. Again and again, the boy shuddered under the onslaught, unabating and relentless as never before. The man felt dangerous, laying into Merlin but not listening to the boy’s desperate pleas.</p><p>“Please, Sir, I don’t know what I did wrong!”</p><p>Thwack.</p><p>“Please. Please stop, please!”</p><p>Thwack.</p><p>“Sir, s…stop, have pity on me, please!”</p><p>Thwack.</p><p>Finally, the Master pushed him away, as if he was a particularly disgusting piece of dirt. Merlin landed heavily panting and weakly crying on the straw-strewn ground,</p><p>“Now, bastard, I will come back in ten minutes. If things have not been put to rights then, I shall use the crop again. It is time you learned the consequences of failing to do your duties.”</p><p>Eyes screwed up with pain and his hands clenched in white-knuckled fists, it had taken Merlin several minutes to be able to stand up. And yet he still did not know what he had done wrong. Painfully, he moved back to the cupboard and straightened out the materials inside as best as he could. But there was nothing more he could do. He didn’t know what was out of place and when the heavy boots of the Stable Master sounded on the cobblestones outside, he hunched his shoulders, curling into himself as much as he could. He knew he had done nothing to prevent another beating with the riding crop.</p><p>That day, Merlin was beaten three times with increasing cruelty by the Stable Master. He had left the boy loudly sobbing and in utter despair in the straw. Merlin couldn’t fill his lungs with enough breath to supply his inconsolable weeping and he soon choked on his tears and snot and began to cough. He couldn’t move and there would be no point. He still didn’t know what he had done wrong and soon the Master would return and he would be beaten again. Merlin wondered how long it would take for him to die under the incessant blows.</p><p>“What’s the matter?” A kind, unknown voice close to him had suddenly asked and Merlin opened his eyes with effort to see the blurry face of a young stable hand.</p><p>“Has the Master given you a thrashing?” An almost imperceptible nod was all Merlin managed.</p><p>“What for?”</p><p>“Do…Don…Don’t know.” Sobs and shaky breaths almost lost the words.</p><p>“Are you the bastard? The Prince’s new manservant?”</p><p>Merlin’s eyes widened and he managed a minute movement of the head to turn his face more fully towards the other youngster. Then Merlin averted his eyes, screwed them up and felt his lips tremble as renewed sobs fought their way up his throat. However, he managed another nod.</p><p>“Hm…,“ was all the boy said. Then Merlin heard him move away towards the cupboard, stand silently before it for a few moments and then rummage in its depth slightly before returning to Merlin’s side. He felt a warm and comforting hand laid across his forehead.</p><p>“Me too. You have to beware; he’ll be extra strict with people like us. You must pay attention to every detail or he will punish you, alright?” The kind hand moved away and Merlin frowned with the loss. Then soft steps retreated from him.</p><p>“Wait!” Merlin said frantically, trying to rise but only managing to get up on his knees. The steps stopped in the doorway.</p><p>“What did I do wrong?”</p><p>“The flasks for rubbing down the saddle are kept behind those for rubbing down the bridle. Remember that.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Merlin whispered and the feet moved away. Merlin slowly blinked his eyes open, now working to stand up. He had made a similar mistake a few days previously, forgetting the correct shelf for the cloths ad brushes. Back then, the mistake had earned him only five strokes, he remembered.</p><p>In Ealdor, Merlin had certainly received his fair share of mockery and spite because he was born out of wedlock. It was there that he had learned that words can be more permanent and aggrieving than other hurts. And yet all his neighbours’ prejudice and all their words paled in comparison to what being a bastard had brought him here in Camelot. And this from the Master he had felt least afraid of.</p><p>When the man had returned and Merlin had finally been able to answer, he suffered a further five blows for obstinacy and wasting time. Then he was let go, to face the ire of the Castle Steward for being, once again, late for his duties. While suffering the torment of the belt and also later at night, when he had been ordered to complete all his unfinished chores, Merlin contemplated what would happen if the Steward ever found out about the fact that Merlin was a fatherless spawn.</p><p>It had been one of the longest and most painful days so far in his life but it wasn’t to be his worst. His very worst day happened just prior to when the Prince, Sir Leon and two squires were to meet some noble guests on the border of Camelot to escort them back to the castle. Merlin was to accompany them and he looked forward to a day away from the daily drudgery and constant fear of the castle.</p><p>Clearly, someone somewhere had decided that Merlin needed to pay forward for the time he was to spend in relative safety away from his severe masters.</p><p>In the morning, Merlin had thankfully managed to pick up his list of duties from the Steward before heading to Arthur with breakfast and to straighten the Prince’s room. The sun was shining merrily and Merlin felt better today than he had in a long time. There was enough food in his belly, he could not feel any oozing wounds on his back and, if he focused on the tasks before him and the banter he and the Prince had newly begun to exchange, he could almost manage to pretend that he could forget about his pain.</p><p>Even better, Arthur had then told him that he wouldn’t be required until dinner that day as the King and he needed to discuss and prepare for the visit of the illustrious nobles.</p><p>“I will have lunch with my father in his chambers but don’t forget to be there and serve me in the hall at dinner time, understood?”</p><p>“Yes, Sire. Of course. When am I ever forgetful?” Merlin joked as he fluffed up the pillows on the giant four-poster bed, sneezing as he breathed in an errant feather.</p><p>The Prince raised an eyebrow. “You, Merlin? You’d forget your own head if I or Gaius didn’t remind you, wouldn’t you?”</p><p>The Prince then moved towards Merlin, smirking. “Not that it would matter. All hollow in there anyway, isn’t it?” And he rapped his knuckles painfully against Merlin’s head, who drew back, wincing.</p><p>“Oh, I don’t know, Sire. It sounds pretty solid to me. What does yours sound like?”</p><p>Then Arthur had chased him across the room, catching him easily and rubbing his knuckles forcefully against Merlin’s skull while holding his head locked under the arm. Merlin squirmed but couldn’t get free.</p><p>If I wasn’t in so much pain, you’d never catch me, Merlin thought grudgingly. This sobered him. He hoped the Prince would never find out how frequently Merlin was disciplined because he was such a terrible servant. Perhaps he really didn’t have a lot of brains in there. He just didn’t seem to improve whatsoever and no effort or time on his side seemed to be able to break through the cycle.</p><p>When the Prince had gone, Merlin traipsed towards the palace garden where he had been told to help with the potato harvest. It was the first time the Steward had sent him there and Merlin went with a light heart, knowing that, at least, harvesting potatoes was something he really did understand.</p><p>It was immediately apparent that the Master of the Royal Gardens already knew of him. Merlin couldn’t remember ever seeing the man before but, he thought, it was quite possible that he had witnessed Merlin being disciplined before.</p><p>“Right, you,” the man had barked uncomfortably loudly. “Here is your hoe and the sacks for the potatoes and you are to finish all of these rows by midday. When you have filled them all – and they better be filled – you will bring them to the storage cellars and fill out the wooden crates. Directly at noon and not a moment later, I shall be there to check that you have completed everything to my satisfaction. Understood?”</p><p>Merlin nodded quickly, then added for good measure, “Yes, Sir, thank you.”</p><p>He was only answered in a low grunt before the man stalked off. But before Merlin had even reached the edge of the potato field, the man had suddenly stood in front of him again, waving a dirty finger under his nose.</p><p>“I am warning you,” the man said, darkly threatening. “You might try your usual tricks with any of the other masters and they might have allowed you to get away with too much. But I will not tolerate the tiniest step out of line. If I find you lacking in any respect, you will wish you had never been born.”</p><p>Merlin had dropped his gaze, trying to control his increasingly panicked breathing. There was a slight pause when Merlin wasn’t sure whether a reply was required of him or whether it would be taken as him stepping out of line. In the end, he decided to nod once again and then answer in the smallest, most obedient voice he could muster, “I understand, Sir. I won’t step out of line, I promise.”</p><p>He only relaxed when the man had huffed in disbelief then moved away and didn’t return. Merlin had surreptitiously watched the man’s retreat over his shoulder, then picked up his hoe to start on the first row. There was a lot to do but he was used to working the fields and knew he simply had to forgo a break in order to finish all that had been assigned him.</p><p>Soon, Merlin’s brow was beaded with perspiration and it ran down his neck and into his shirt. The salty liquid burned painfully in the wounds on his back and Merlin endured a quiet torment that morning as each drop of sweat descended along his injuries.</p><p>He also realised that he had not been given any water and his tongue and mouth were soon parched and dry. Coughs from the dust he threw up when turning over the soil and digging out the potatoes shook his frame but he didn’t dare to pause his task to fetch water from the well in the Lower Town, afraid he would not finish in time if he did.</p><p>Also, Merlin realised, that working alone in the fields was a lot harder than working with his neighbours in the village. There had been songs and stories and chatting and although he was usually on the outside of conversations, time had passed much more quickly and the toil had seemed less tiresome than this lonely effort.</p><p>Finally, it was almost midday and Merlin had finished the rows of potatoes in good time which was fortunate as he could not transport the heavy sacks on his burning back but had to drag them one by one into the storage cellars.</p><p>When the Master of the Royal Gardens stepped into the semi-darkness, Merlin had just finished pouring the final sack into the crates. For the first time since coming to Camelot, he was confident that he had fulfilled everything as he had been tasked.</p><p>Merlin had stepped back from the crates and stood upright as the Master wordlessly examined them, picking out random potatoes to see if Merlin had broken any with the hoe.</p><p>“Well, it seems that you can work after all when you’ve been warned of the consequences of laziness. I am glad to know that you are not completely stupid, insubordinate and useless.”</p><p>They were not kind words but Merlin lapped them up like the fresh water his throat so urgently required.</p><p>“Thank you, Sir.”</p><p>“You may go.”</p><p>Merlin turned around, let out a slow breath and closed his eyes once in relief. He should have known though that it was all too good to be true.</p><p>“Hold on!” A sharp exclamation halted his steps abruptly. What was the matter? Did he forget to stash away the sacks? Clean the hoe? No. He’d done all that.</p><p>“What on earth did you do with the older potatoes at the bottom of the crates?”</p><p>Merlin’s shoulders tensed in shock. He hadn’t seen any potatoes layering the bottom. It was dark in the cellars but Merlin had also never considered that there might be other potatoes already in the crates. In Ealdor, whatever vegetable had been stored away for the winter was long gone when the next harvest came around. Merlin had never experienced a year where they had a surplus of food. Of course! How could he have been so stupid to assume that the castle would not have had plenty of potatoes even when new ones where being added to the storage.</p><p>Trembling, Merlin turned around and swallowed with great effort. His throat was still impossibly dry and the murderous stare of the Master made it difficult to get his voice to work.</p><p> “Sir, I…I didn’t realise there were other potatoes at the bottom of the crates. I thought they’d be empty. Please, I’m so sorry. I should have looked, I know. I’m really sorry…,” Merlin’s rasping apology was interrupted by a painful cough.</p><p>The man stepped closer, staring in unblinking rage at the shivering boy before him. “Are you telling me that you poured freshly harvested potatoes carelessly onto the remaining ones from last season?”</p><p>“Yes, Sir.” Merlin couldn’t be sure that the man had heard for his reply was almost inaudible. Inaudible and hopeless. He had been promised no mercy or tolerance when he stepped out of line and his eyes peered along the dark crevices of the room, wondering which tool would be used to discipline him for his mistake.</p><p>There was a long, motionless silence from the Master. Merlin felt himself withering more and more under his gaze, wishing that man would start whatever punishment he had devised as soon as possible. Waiting and not knowing what would happen next was torment in itself.</p><p>Finally, the man spoke again, so low that it could almost have been called soft. But the menace and anger in the voice made the gentleness of it even more terrible.</p><p>“Follow me!”</p><p>With shaking limbs and hands, Merlin followed outside to a beautiful, strong birch tree, waving its hanging branches softly in the breeze, not a care in the world for the boy quaking in fear by its roots.</p><p>Surprisingly nimble, the Master grabbed the lower branches on the tree and swung himself swiftly into its crown. Merlin’s eyes followed him in confusion. When the man fumbled at his belt, Merlin almost fainted with the sudden thought that the man planned to hang him from one of those branches. But when he saw the Master pull out a knife secreted at his belt, he understood. He was cutting a switch and, judging from where the man was working in the tree, it would be rather thicker and less pliable than those his mother had used.</p><p>Having accomplished his task, the man jumped down and began to viciously attack and chop away smaller branches and twigs growing along the switch. Merlin had to stand and watch, his breath quickening with every passing second, his heart throbbing loudly. When the man had completed the task, he lashed the air a couple of times with the switch, causing it to hum dangerously.</p><p>“Fetch me a bucket of water.” Surprised and once again puzzled, Merlin’s gaze followed the pointing finger and he exhaled in despair. There was a well right in the garden, so close to the potato field that Merlin should have surely seen it, had he taken time to pause and look around. Not daring to infuriate the man further by hesitation, Merlin walked to the tempting liquid, filled a bucket and carried it back to the man without taking a drop.</p><p>“On the ground, face-down,“ the Master ordered and Merlin obeyed, feeling keenly the humiliation intended by placing him thus unseeing and defenceless at the feet of his punisher. All breath was pushed out of him suddenly when he was drenched in icy water. For a moment, his chest felt too constricted to ever supply him air to breathe again. Then a cry of pain drove all else from his mind as the switch came down upon his wet clothes and back.</p><p>Across his shoulders, along his arms, on his neck and criss-crossing the layers of welts from previous corrections on every part of his back, the switch came down again and again and again. The strength of the man, Merlin’s position on the ground and the water he had been doused in meant that the agony inflicted by the switch was unlike anything Merlin remembered from his mother’s use of it. Each stroke seemed to wish to pound him into the soft ground below, the sunshine and greenery mocking Merlin as his pained grunts were stifled by the soil his face was pressed into.</p><p>“Please… please…please,” Merlin repeated voicelessly with every brutal blow. But there was no mercy from above until finally, Merlin felt himself grow lighter and unconsciousness took him.</p><p>He awakened with a start when cold water again doused him and his body started to shiver violently. With horror, Merlin realised that his trousers were warm and wet. A firm hand grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up but Merlin was too weak to cry out. He was then stood against the tree, his hand roughly guided to a branch and forced to grab on to it in order to steady him. Merlin’s eyes were still closed and the noises and impressions of the world around him were fighting a hard battle with the obliviousness that still wanted to claim him.</p><p>A sudden slap made sure the victory fell on the side of agonising wakefulness.</p><p>“Did you hear me, boy?”</p><p>Merlin’s eyes fluttered open marginally and this must have been taken as a sign of attention for the voice continued.</p><p>“I warned you not to trifle with me. I hope you have learned your lesson. If not, I can promise you that this was only a light punishment. Fail in your duties again and I can promise you worse, boy.”</p><p>Merlin swayed on the spot but couldn’t fully grasp the words that were being said to him. Nevertheless, his body began to react to some elemental fear and he felt himself grow hot then cold then hot with something his brain was unable to understand.</p><p>“You will return in the evening after the nobility have finished their supper and not leave the cellar until you have removed all the fresh potatoes, taken out the older ones and made sure they are stacked on top.”</p><p>There was a sudden awareness in the boy that he needed to react to something or other but he didn’t know quite what or how. Then he heard steps moving away from him, then silence, then the darkness claimed him once more and Merlin collapsed into the grass under the tree.</p><p>When he next awoke, his brain and body had reunited and he felt the ache of the switch in every bone. He also shivered with a chill as the sun had descended lower on the sky and a fresh breeze and his damp clothes had caused his body to cool down dangerously. Merlin noticed that his throat was still aching and dry, now also hoarse with his cries and grunts from his ordeal. Mercifully, he discovered some remaining moisture on his lips and on the grass below and he lapped it up like a man dying of thirst.</p><p>I have to get up, he told himself but his limbs were heavy and would only obey him sluggishly. Finally, he managed to stand and his mind became fully clear. He had been unconscious for some time. The sun told him that it was now mid-afternoon and he had missed lunch and not even begun his afternoon duties.</p><p>Tears of pain and despair rained down his face as he hobbled back to the castle and the physician’s room. He tried to steel himself in order to not give away to Gaius what had happened to him but he would have undoubtedly failed this time. The wet clothes alone were a giveaway and he had a feeling that his bruises and injuries might appear more visibly through his wet shirt.</p><p>Thankfully, Gaius was out and Merlin first made to drink several cups of clear water and then located and drank half a bottle of painkilling potion. Gaius had only pointed it out to him yesterday and it could not have been more timely a knowledge. Merlin just hoped that Gaius wouldn’t miss the bottle. He didn’t think the old man would beat him but he couldn’t be sure of anything anymore. Maybe he would send Merlin home.</p><p>
  <em>Yes, please, Gaius, send me home to my mother and her switchings. I’ll endure one of hers for every day of the rest of my life if only I won’t be punished anymore here in Camelot.</em>
</p><p>His destiny could go hang itself. He wasn’t man enough to endure this suffering. He wasn’t good enough not to merit strict disciplining every single day. There was no way, he was ever going to do all the things prophesied for him and Arthur.</p><p>Merlin had sat hunched and dejected on the patients’ cot when suddenly a pair of guards crossed the courtyard below, their heavy boots echoing on the cobblestones. Merlin jumped up and grimaced in pain. He had forgotten. Oh, he had forgotten!</p><p>Wincing and still slightly dizzy, Merlin changed into a dry shirt and clean trousers. He stored the bottle with the remaining painkilling potion under his bed and then made his way to the kitchen and from there, with a laden tray he was trying very hard not to topple, towards the dungeons.</p><p>“In the morning, you will report to the Master of the Royal Gardens to help with the potato harvest. Then it is your duty to deliver lunch to the guards in the dungeons. Make sure you are timely. Compared to them, I am a tolerant man when it comes to tardiness!”</p><p>Those had been Merlin’s orders from the Steward this morning. It was now mid-afternoon and he had omitted to carry the expected lunches down to the guards. He knew they were not allowed to leave their stations so he quivered at the thought of their seething anger at him having failed to deliver their food on time. A three hour delay – this wasn’t just tardiness. This was sure to be interpreted as deliberate negligence!</p><p>Shaking and with uncertain steps, Merlin descended the low stone tunnel towards the dungeon. It was always twilight here and smelled of blood and filth and mouldy straw. Burning torches painted fantastical shadow creatures on the wall and, to Merlin, they all appeared as monsters waiting to attack and devour him.</p><p>An uneven stair jolted his back and Merlin received a full blast of pain which made him almost lose balance. There was the story of the desperate criminal that, having been condemned to death and being led down to the dungeons to await his execution in the morning, had thrown himself down the stairs and broken his neck. Naturally, the people in Camelot not only believed this story but also that the man must have been a sorcerer. Because of this, the dungeons were also said to be cursed and the ghost of the criminal, still undead, to haunt  the staircase in order to throw down other unfortunate souls to meet the same end and join him in his restless torment.</p><p>For a moment, it looked as though Merlin would meet just such a fate but he managed to throw out a hand and dig his fingertips tightly into the grooves between the stones on the wall. Unfortunately, his tray was less fortunate. It capsized and spilled all its precious load in cascades down the steps. Finally, the tray itself, made of some metal, followed the procession downstairs with an almighty clatter that would surely have woken every undead ghost in the entire castle.</p><p>Merlin watched its descent in horror, then slid down the wall in distress and dismay when he heard several pairs of heavy boots approaching at a run. It took the guards all of twenty seconds to assess the scene before them, discover the source of the disturbance in a serving boy casually sitting on a stair some way further up and to drag him up by the ear to bring him to justice. And there would be justice: not only had this boy neglected to bring them their midday meal, he had now also, perhaps wilfully, spoiled their food. Their frustration and fury knew no bounds.</p><p>Merlin held on for dear life to the hand that pulled his ear, fearing that it might be forcibly ripped from his scalp if he stumbled or fell. He couldn’t help his high screams of pain and noticed little else around him but several pairs of guards, speaking with loud, angry voices, simultaneously pulling and kicking him deeper into the bowels of the castle. Perhaps they were going to lock him up?</p><p>But with a final shove, Merlin found himself in a large, underground guardroom. There was a fire burning in the grate whose heat nevertheless did not extend enough to chase the chill from the high-vaulted chamber. Merlin was dragged to the middle, then his ear was finally released and he was left swaying, a spectacle for all to see.</p><p>Rubbing at the side of his face, Merlin assumed that he had been brought to the headquarters of the guards: several rough-hewn wooden tables and benches stood in uneven lines around the rooms, mostly empty but some occupied, although seeing the commotion and Merlin standing as the culprit in the middle, the few men assembled in the room stood up and walked closer to him. All were tall and strong and their eyes looked piercing and wild.</p><p>They approached him from all sides so Merlin couldn’t step back from them and did the only thing he could: he cowered and made himself look as small as possible, fearing the impending onslaught.</p><p>“Who is this?” a strict voice suddenly asked from the side of the room outside of Merlin’s field of vision. As one, the men straightened up to stand to attention for whoever was entering the guardroom now. Merlin didn’t dare move or turn around.</p><p>“I asked a question!” the voice simmered with impatience and authority.</p><p>The man who had grabbed Merlin by the ear straightened up further, clearing his throat, “Sir, this is the serving boy who had been tasked with bringing us lunch today. Fred and I just found him on the stairs after he had thrown down our provisions. We…” There was a slight hesitation as if the man speaking wasn’t quite sure whether his next words would meet with the approval of the other speaker. Merlin realised that he must be a captain or overseer of some kind</p><p>“Speak up, Morris!” the man behind Merlin bellowed. Merlin flinched violently as did all the guards around the room.</p><p>“Yes, Sir,” said Morris, some trepidation audible in his voice. “We thought it only right to teach the boy a lesson and allow him to…understand the frustration the lack of food has caused us.” Merlin gazed up carefully to witness several of the guardsmen balling their fists. He realised that had the other man not interfered, he would already be pummelled by them. And it might happen still.</p><p>Drooping, tired and aching, Merlin stood motionless, waiting for the guards and their Captain to decide his fate.</p><p>The man in charge now addressed the entire room. “It is not for you to mete out punishment for this boy. But I understand your frustration and anger. The boy’s behaviour and neglect has hindered you in the performance of your duties and he rightfully deserves a penalty for this.”</p><p>Tears began to run down Merlin’s face at this and his palms began sweating profusely. It couldn’t be happening again. He couldn’t be disciplined again. Not after the beating he had received this morning. How would he endure it? How could he have been so stupid and negligent to bring this upon himself? Shuddering breaths accompanied his tears. Oh, had he never come to Camelot. Had he never even been born! Many people would have been better off without him.</p><p>“Men,“ the Captain continued, “although I must admonish you for wanting to take retribution in your own hands, I commend you for your sense of justice and the performance of your duty in not leaving your stations despite going hungry. Clarke!” The Captain addressed a dark corner of the room and a younger guard Merlin hadn’t noticed before stepped forward. He looked to be about Merlin’s age, almost a boy still.</p><p>The boy stepped forward and stood to attention. “Yes, Sir.”</p><p>“I release you from your duty here for twenty minutes in order to bring down food and drink enough for all the guards. If you cannot carry all of it when you are in the kitchen, get a maid to help you.”</p><p>The boy hurried off. There was a beat of silence, only interrupted by Merlin’s sobbing which echoed ominously around the vaults.</p><p>“When Clarke returns, you may each take turns to each your lunch and leave your station for only that purpose for a space of ten minutes. In the meantime, I will deal with the boy.”</p><p>At this, Merlin felt his upper arm gripped in a wrench-like hold and he had to follow the man, unsteady and stumbling, through a claustrophobic labyrinth of tunnels. They passed many heavy, wooden doors and iron bars on either side. Merlin again wondered hopelessly whether he might be locked in one of those cells and left to rot. No one would come and look for him, he was sure. Well, maybe Gaius, but would he think to look here?</p><p>Finally, the Captain stopped and opened a door in a wall of iron bars that led to a cell. Dragging Merlin into the cell, he then closed the gate and turned full face towards him. Merlin quaked when he saw his eyes. There was no white-hot fury in there as it had been in the guards’ eyes. But his stare was cold and merciless, causing shivers to run down the boy’s spine.</p><p>“Explain yourself!” the Captain commanded in a stern voice.</p><p>Merlin tried twice to begin an explanation but he was so afraid that his voice failed him. He swallowed and finally it would serve him, though only a shaky whisper came out. “Sir, please, I did not mean to throw the food down the stairs. There was a stair…I lost my balance and the tray fell out of my hands, I swear.”</p><p>“I am not interested in what happened on the stairs. Any idiot can see it was an accident and, clearly, only an idiot couldn’t hold on to a tray tightly enough not to spill precious victuals everywhere. If we were at war, boy, you’d be flogged for this and your own rations withheld until the spoiled food had been paid for.”</p><p>Merlin’s eyes, which had been hefted to the floor, flicked up nervously at that. They weren’t at war but…</p><p>“I want you to explain how you dare to arrive three hours late with my men’s lunches?”</p><p>“Sir, I…” How could he explain this? If he mentioned his failings in the Royal Gardens this morning and his punishment, the Captain would know how useless he was as a servant and would be more inclined to correct him as well. But if he didn’t offer up an explanation, the Captain would think him obstinate and unrepentant. Neither option promised any mercy or pity from the man.</p><p>“Please, Sir, I am sorry I was late. I didn’t mean to be. I was…delayed this morning with a duty in the Royal Gardens. I…I took longer than I expected to be there.” It was a terribly weak excuse and Merlin knew it.</p><p>The Captain straightened up and his shadow, caught by a torch in a bracket by the door, loomed threateningly on the rough stone wall behind him.</p><p>“Do not think you can lie to me!”</p><p>Merlin shook his head in distress.</p><p>“I recognise an excuse when I hear it. Clearly, you have wasted time both this morning and in coming to perform your duties here. You must know that neither I nor any other overseer in the castle tolerates laziness or carelessness in the performance of your work. Tardiness and deceitfulness are even more serious offences. My men were right in demanding retribution but I had no idea it had been caused by more than an unwilling mistake. However, as it is, it appears you require stronger discipline than I would have normally dealt you.”</p><p>At that, Merlin began to tremble in earnest, hot tears spilling down his face and his hands clenching. He did not dare to move when the Captain walked off to the side but was soon back within Merlin’s range of vision, holding a length of coarse rope.</p><p>“Take off your tunic!” ordered the man.</p><p>Merlin’s eyes grew wide and a sob caught in his throat. Seeing the boy’s hesitation the man took one step closer to him and Merlin knew that further delay would only make it worse for him.</p><p>Lifting his arms with care, he couldn’t avoid wincing at the way the movement caught on his back. He wanted to avoid splitting open any healing wounds but he didn’t want to anger the Captain further by appearing deliberately slow and reluctant in following the order.</p><p>With a final hiss and the feeling that various injuries, just newly scabbed over, had begun to ooze again, Merlin pulled the shirt off his back and over his head, allowing it to gather around his wrists.</p><p>The man had observed the boy’s slow progress with a frown, curling and uncurling the rope in his hands. When Merlin had got this far the man stepped to the side and examined Merlin’s back.</p><p>The boy had not looked at the damage himself. He didn’t think he could. It was frightening and agonising enough to feel it at every step and bend of his body. However, he knew that it would look bad, that his many mistakes and offences would be evident from his neckline to his waistband. Ordinarily, he knew, instruments like the cane, the riding crop or the switch ought not to break the skin. But the frequency of his punishments, their severity and the use of the belt by the Steward had made sure that gashes had opened on his skin, additional to the welts and bruises that would colourfully disfigure the rest of his back.</p><p>“I see I will not be the first to leave marks of correction here.” Merlin tensed at the man’s words and under his gaze. Then he dropped his head in despair and quietly said, “No, Sir.”</p><p>“What were the reasons you received those beatings, boy?”</p><p>Merlin sighed. Could he even remember all that he had done to deserve the punishments? He didn’t think so. It was the beatings that stayed most vividly in his memory.</p><p>“I..,” Merlin bit his lip. It was hard to admit the truth. “I am not a very good servant, Sir.”</p><p>“I see.” The man said simply. There was a new layer to his voice, almost as if the sight of Merlin’s back had weakened the man’s resolve to punish him. Merlin waited with bated breath.</p><p>“Well, it seems that aggravating these wounds on your back further would not be helpful.” Merlin’s head shot up, looking squarely at the Captain. Could it be true? Would he be spared?</p><p>“Stretch out your arms!”</p><p>Merlin recoiled. What did this man intend to do with him now? But he needed to obey and held up his hands. The Captain then took his wrists and tied the length of rope around it. It wasn’t tight enough to cut into Merlin’s flesh but he would not be able to wriggle lose. An end of rope was left dangling from Merlin’s bound wrists.</p><p>Then the Captain walked over to the iron bars that made up one wall of the cell, looked around as if searching for something and finally pushed a small wooden crate on the floor to lay snug against the bars. It now formed a sort of step or elevated platform with the iron bars behind it.</p><p>This accomplished, the Captain returned to Merlin’s side and took the end of rope. Merlin followed, confused but obedient, and stepped onto the crate when the man indicated for him to do so. His wrists were then pulled up to about the height of his face and secured to the iron bars in front of him.</p><p>Merlin didn’t dare to speak but his breathing became erratic. He had hoped that the man would not beat him after all since he had seen his back. But now…all this indicated more than a mere caning or even the use of a belt. This seemed like the preparations for a flogging. A small noise escaped Merlin’s lips at this point at the prospect of enduring the lash.</p><p>He had seen it a few times in Ealdor or in neighbouring villages. King Cenred sometimes had his knights parade criminals from place to place, administering the lash so that the people in the villages were deterred from committing similar crimes. It was a horrid display of violence and power and Merlin tried to avoid them if he could. However, the soldiers were usually good at rounding up all the villagers and looking away during the ordeal would be counted as disobedience to the King’s orders. Some in Ealdor had tried and had then also received the lash.</p><p>Merlin had run into the forest after witnessing his first whipping, emptying his stomach and exhausting his storage of tears. That poor man! Closing his eyes to avoid the images crowding him, Merlin could still clearly hear the gruesome hissing of the lash as it rushed through the air and the crack and incessant screams when it landed on the man’s back. Even later, when his visual memory of the event dimmed, the noises still haunted him, just as vivid and horrific as they had been at first.</p><p>Merlin had returned hours after dark, shaking and traumatised; he couldn’t help envisaging what King Cenred would do to him if he found out about Merlin’s powers!</p><p>His magic was whirring and throbbing under his bound wrists now as it had been whenever Merlin had been punished. But he needed to contain it. Whatever the Captain did to him, it had to be endured. If he used magic, it would be worse than whatever he faced now.</p><p>But suddenly, his magic flared up again, alarmed and ready to strike. The Captain had stepped behind Merlin again and the boy was shocked near out of his wits when he heard the man’s sword being drawn. With a painful effort, Merlin reigned in his magic but at the same time he began to struggle against his bonds, trying to jump off the crate, to save himself.</p><p>“Don’t move!” the man commanded.</p><p>But Merlin became more and more frightened and frantic. A drawn sword could only mean one thing: execution.</p><p>“Please, Sir, please,“ Merlin begged and pleaded, sobbing. “Don’t kill me, please. I’ll never be late again, I promise. Please, beat me or punish me any other way but please don’t kill me!”</p><p>By now his struggling had pulled the rope around his wrists so tight that Merlin could hardly feel his fingers anymore. And still he tried to get free. He knew he would have to save himself with magic if all his pleading and attempts at escape failed.</p><p>Merlin stilled when he heard a small and genuine chuckle behind him.</p><p>“I’m not going to kill you!”</p><p>“But, Sir, the sword…”</p><p>“Hold on to the bars with your hands then it’ll be easier on your wrists.” Merlin instinctively obeyed, his fear of imminent death only partly calmed. Then the sword whistled through the air behind him and Merlin felt an agonising blow as the broadside of the weapon thrummed into the back of his legs. The boy clenched his fingers onto the bars and gave a sharp cry of pain. Before he could amply understand what had happened to him, the next blow rained down, searing into the back of his calves.</p><p>As Merlin held on to the bars for dear life and grimaced in pain at every stroke, it became clear why the Captain had ordered him to stand on a crate. Not once did the broadside of the sword land on his injured back. Instead, the stinging metal blade did not spare an inch below his waistband. It was harder than a rod or riding crop or switch but did not seem to tear his skin as the iron buckle of the belt did.</p><p>Grunting in pain with every blow, Merlin felt himself grow weaker, his earlier dizziness returning. Soon, he knew, he would pass out, his knees buckling under him. Yet before blessed unconsciousness could claim him, the blows stopped and Merlin stood, eyes clenched and body quivering, trying to deal with the pain.</p><p>He gave a slight jolt as he was untied from the bars and the rope removed from his wrists. The man almost carried him off the crate, then Merlin winced as his tunic was pulled over his head again. Swaying, Merlin was steadied by a hand on his shoulder and he felt his chin tilted upwards by the man’s other hand to stare into his tormentor’s eyes.</p><p>“Well?” Clearly the man required some kind of response from the boy and if Merlin had only ever known his mother’s discipline, he would have been at a loss what was expected of him. But a lifetime’s friendship with Will and more than two weeks in Camelot were enough.</p><p>“Thank…thank you, Sir,…for your correction. I vow to fulfil my duties with more diligence in the future.” Merlin whispered, head bent, lips quivering. All he wanted was to go somewhere safe and quiet, to cry his heart out, nurse his injuries and rest. Naturally, he couldn’t.</p><p>“I’m glad to hear it. Don’t let me catch you slacking off again, boy, do you understand?”</p><p>“Yes, Sir.”</p><p>“Go now.”</p><p>Merlin’s body was ablaze with pain but more than anything, he wanted to get away from this man and this place as fast as he could. But when he had stepped through the door of the cell, he realised, he did not know the way to go.</p><p>He stopped, scared to address the man once again.</p><p>“Sir, I…I don’t know the way out.” Merlin said finally.</p><p>A loud whistle made him jump but immediately, steps were heard and the young guard called Clarke came running into view. He stopped to stand to attention.</p><p>“Take this serving boy out of the dungeons, Clarke,” the Captain ordered and the boy immediately turned, walking ahead of Merlin who struggled to keep up, hissing with pain.</p><p>When the had gone around a couple of bends, the boy Clarke looked back at Merlin with a strange expression. However, he remained mute and continued on his way, but slower so that Merlin was also able to walk at a less painful pace.</p><p>At times, Merlin and Clarke passed by other guardsmen and Merlin hunched his shoulders in shame and fright when he saw Morris and others gloating at his state.</p><p>The stairs out of the dungeon were the most agonising as they pulled at Merlin’s injuries, both old and new, in all the wrong places. Midway up the stairs, the boy had to stop, hunched over the railing and panting. Suddenly, a strong but gentle hand gripped him under his right arm and lifted him up.</p><p>“Come on, I’ll help you, Merlin,” Clarke said.</p><p>Merlin was so taken aback that he almost fell backwards but Clarke held him up.</p><p>“You know who I am?” Merlin asked quietly. Then he dropped his head, unable to face the other’s eyes. “I imagine you have heard of me before, Prince Arthur’s useless manservant.”</p><p>“I have. I have also witnessed you being beaten for some mistake or other several times.”</p><p>There was nothing Merlin could say to that but he felt his face red-hot. He heaved a heavy, despondent sigh.</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Merlin, I don’t think you have to apologise. We all start somewhere and we all have to learn.” Merlin nodded.</p><p>“And…and I don’t think you deserved to be beaten so harshly.”</p><p>Merlin raised his eyes to those of the other boy and saw a small but genuine smile in them. It was only a small comfort but Merlin wouldn’t have been able to put into words how much it meant to him.</p><p>He then allowed Clarke to help him up the rest of the stairs. They emerged in the castle corridors but Clarke led him a roundabout way to a less frequented exit from the castle to avoid observation. The small wooden door led to a more wild part of the Royal Gardens. An orchard. Under the many fruit trees, there was a stone well where Clarke put him down gently and slowly, trying not to exacerbate Merlin’s visible discomfort as he was lowered to sit on his new injuries. When Merlin seemed relatively settled, although tremors still ran through his body, Clarke leant over the edge of the well to fetch some water for him.</p><p>Merlin gulped it down gratefully.</p><p>“Did he use the broadside of his sword?”</p><p>Merlin gave a slight nod of his head, staring into the cup of water. His mirror image showed a white face with red-rimmed eyes and visible tear-tracks down the cheeks.</p><p>“On your back?”</p><p>Merlin shook his head. “No, he had me remove my shirt at first but when he saw…he beat me only below that.”</p><p>“Good. Your back must already be really sore from this morning.”</p><p>So someone had witnessed his humiliation in the Royal Gardens. Merlin’s tears started to flow again silently, remembering his ordeal, remembering all he had had to bear since coming to Camelot. And before he knew it, interrupted by sobs and hiccoughs, Merlin told Clarke all his woes and all he had done to merit them since he first saved the Prince’s life.</p><p>The other boy listened attentively and laid a comforting hand gently on Merlin’s shoulder when he had finished. “I don’t know how much more I can take. And this evening, I still have to serve the Prince at dinner and sort out the potato crates for the Master of the Royal Gardens.” Merlin hid his face in his hands in despair.</p><p>There was a short silence. Then Clarke began to speak gently.</p><p>“I’m sorry I can’t always help you, Merlin. Or that I didn’t come to speak to you before even though I saw you were suffering. But I can make up some of it tonight.”</p><p>Merlin raised his eyes, frowning slightly.</p><p>“I’ll be off duty soon. Then I’ll sneak into the storage cellar and sort out the potatoes for you. You’ll still have to go serve Prince Arthur, I’m afraid, and show up for the Master later on. But the work in the cellar will be done.”</p><p>But Merlin already shook his head vehemently. “You can’t, Clarke. If the Master sees you doing my job, he’ll whip both of us!”</p><p>“Don’t worry, he won’t. He isn’t very diligent in the performance of his duties either, you see. There is a certain lady living in town that he likes to go visit in the afternoon. At this time of the year, most of his servants are helping to bring in the harvest from the fields before the weather turns, so, you see, the Master won’t be there nor will anyone else.” Clarke gave Merlin a proud smile. “That’s why I’m a guard. I notice things and remember them. I have excellent ears and I can hide in the shadows, silent as the grave, so even if someone came to the storage room, I’d hear them and hide before they even entered.”</p><p>Merlin was still doubtful. “Clarke, you can’t.” From what Merlin had seen of the Camelot guards, they weren’t always the most observant or effective. Maybe Clarke would be the exception though?</p><p>“I can and I will, Merlin. People helped me out when I first started. And I think you need a friend.”</p><p>Both boys then regarded each other for a moment before their faces split into wide smiles. A friend, Merlin thought, was exactly what he needed now.</p><p>Then Clarke stood up suddenly. “I’ll have to get back now, Merlin, or the Captain will miss me.”</p><p>“Oh no, will you get into trouble. Will you be punished because of me?”</p><p>Clarke smiled again at his new friend. “No, don’t worry. I’ll say that I had to take you to your chambers and help you clean up. The Captain is very strict but he isn’t unreasonable. You witnessed that as well. He wouldn’t beat you on your back because it was already injured.”</p><p>Merlin nodded slowly, pensively. Then he reached up his hand and Clarke pulled him up.</p><p>“Take a moment to clean yourself up, Merlin.” Clarke pointed at the bucket he had drawn from the well, still mostly filled with cold, clear liquid.</p><p>“Thank you,” Merlin whispered, so overwhelmed and touched by the unexpected care of another that he had almost forgotten what it was like.</p><p>Clarke gave him another smile, then rested his hand shortly on his shoulder before bounding away like a foal towards the dungeons. Merlin had the distinct feeling that Clarke would be much better suited to live a life outdoors than cooped up within the confines of the castle or underground. Maybe one day, when he was a much better servant, he could ask whether Arthur might knight him. He had certainly behaved most honourably towards Merlin. Although of course, Merlin knew, that would not be a good argument in the eyes of the Prince.</p><p>Shrugging off his clothes and washing himself was a painful and slow process for Merlin. He was only glad that no one observed him and that his smarting wounds began to feel cleaner and the pain became duller as the icy water ran over them. Finally, having taken a moment to dry in the warm air of the shade under the trees, Merlin felt infinitely better and began his way back to the castle to serve Arthur at dinner.</p><p>When Merlin gingerly lifted himself into his cot that night, trying not to pull at his wounds, he reflected on the day, the most painful day of his life so far. At dinner, he had been able to serve fairly well, he supposed. He hadn’t spilled any wine all over Arthur and the King had, blessedly, taken no notice of him. He had caught the Prince’s eye a few times when he knew Arthur wanted to toss a mocking remark towards his servant. Silently, of course. They could not engage in banter in front of the King. Merlin’s eye had answered with an appropriate witty and equally inaudible reply and received a raised eyebrow and suppressed smirk at this.</p><p>Later on, he had been full of anxiety as he neared the Royal Gardens. He had entered the storage cellar and near jumped out of his skin when the Master began speaking from behind him.</p><p>“I’m glad to see that my discipline this morning has taught you to be punctual, at least, eh, boy?” The man walked forward to stand above the servant and grimaced in a condescending smile. All Merlin could do was to look down and nod meekly.</p><p>“Yes, Sir.”</p><p>“Well, get started. I shall lock you in here for half an hour. If it is not done by then, you know what to expect.”</p><p>Despite trusting that Clarke had kept his promise, Merlin had begun to tremble, nearly whimpering as he replied, “Yes, Sir.”</p><p>Without another word, the Master had stomped out of the cellar and Merlin heard the heavy iron bolt being drawn in front of the door.</p><p>In the dim light, he immediately checked on the potato crates but exhaled in relief when he saw that Clarke was as true as his word. Merlin only hoped that the Master wouldn’t find anything else to his dissatisfaction. But he was so tired, he sank to the floor and almost immediately dropped off to sleep, thinking of his new friend.</p><p>A hard slap woke him up suddenly and Merlin was pulled up forcibly by his jacket.</p><p>“What do you think you’re doing, falling asleep!” The Master had returned and was shouting at him. He raised his arm which carried a strong switch, ready to lash it across Merlin’s face.</p><p>“Sir, please, don’t. I’m done. I’m done with what you asked me to do.” Merlin tried to protect his face with one elbow but was suddenly flung to the floor as the Master walked over to the crates to check them thoroughly. Merlin didn’t dare to breathe loudly. Please, let him be satisfied now. Please, don’t let him beat me again, he prayed.</p><p>When the Master turned back around he looked more furious than ever and Merlin, whimpering, curled up on the floor, desperately trying to protect his face and soft parts with his arms and drawn-up legs. He was shuddering, waiting to be struck.</p><p>“Get up, you imbecile,” the Master then barked.</p><p>Merlin raised one arm slightly to regard the man’s face with uncertainty.</p><p>“Get up, I said.” A strong arm pulled him to his feet. “Go home. And you had better hope you learned your lesson today, boy!”</p><p>Merlin nodded quickly and began running as soon as the hand released him. He couldn’t believe that he had not been beaten.</p><p>He had collapsed into bed several hours later, clutching a piece of bread and part of a bowl of cold soup that Gaius had left over from his dinner. He ate quickly, then downed the rest of the painkilling potion he had stored under his bed earlier. Arthur had insisted on keeping him busy with tasks for a long time and Merlin had been so tired when he was dismissed that he could have fallen asleep on the floor right there and then.</p><p>Finally, he blew out his candle and was able to close his eyes. He only had a couple of hours to sleep as he needed to get up before dawn to gather some herbs in the forest for Gaius. Then he would have to prepare to ride out with Arthur and the others.</p><p>Despite the day and all it had brought, Merlin smiled as he dropped off to sleep. Tomorrow, he would be out of the castle for almost an entire day and he loved being alone in the forest in the early morning, even if it meant getting up before dawn. It reminded him so much of his life in Ealdor and how he and Will would get up and walk to the ridge by the caves to watch the sun come up. Then, there would be more knightly battles to fight before they returned to the village for breakfast and their chores.</p><p>As Merlin dragged himself along towards the Steward’s office, he reflected how far away this life now seemed. It was now utterly lost to him and he so utterly lost in his new life. Now, it was all failure and pain and exhaustion and even the day away from the castle he had then looked forward to had been an ordeal leading to further suffering and hurt.</p><p>It seemed that all his life had become was a string of miseries he couldn’t escape, miseries that would simply continue to batter him until he eventually collapsed. He reflected on this as he came to a halt in front of the Steward’s door. Cold and hot shivers ran down his body and he rested his good hand on the doorframe for a moment to steady himself.</p><p>“Merlin’s many, many unfinished chores” the Prince had called it, proclaiming Merlin’s ineptitude for all to hear. Humiliation and shame washed over the boy as he tried to steel himself for the beating he would receive when he entered the door. He knew he probably deserved it, knew that the Steward would not show any mercy, especially as the Prince had practically ordered him to take measures to correct his manservant. Additionally, Merlin hadn’t come when the Steward had ordered him to and he would have no excuse that would soften the man’s anger.</p><p>Suddenly, an errant thought caused new panic to course through Merlin’s body and he withdrew his hand that had been about to knock on the door. I’m wearing my white nightshirt, Merlin realised feverishly. It’ll be ruined when my wounds start bleeding! Then I’ll only have two left…</p><p>Dizzy and shaking, Merlin tried to focus his mind: would he have time to go back to Gaius’ chambers to change now? Would it even matter? Why were the ground and the walls spinning in this way?</p><p>Once again, Merlin had to grasp onto something solid, breathing fast, trying to clear his mind. As the earth finally settled again around him, tears started leaking from Merlin’s eyes. No, any further delays were futile!</p><p>He took a shaky breath and knocked, trying hard not to picture how the Steward inside would unbuckle his belt, curling it tightly around his hand to release its bite and burn across Merlin’s back.</p><p>“Enter?”</p><p>With a whimpering sound that he couldn’t suppress, Merlin opened the door and stepped inside. He cast his eyes to the floor and had to hold on to the door tightly as he closed it when the dizziness tried to overwhelm him again. But this he would do. Closing the door would mean being spared at least the shame of a public beating. Then he turned to where he knew the Steward would be standing.</p><p>Bowing, Merlin then clasped his hands in a sign of submission and whispered, “Good morning, Sir. I am so sorry for being late. I know you ordered me to come straight after the Prince’s breakfast so that you could…deal with my failure to complete all the Prince’s chores yesterday. Please, forgive me, I…”</p><p>Merlin trailed off. He knew there was no point appealing to this man. Stock-still, he waited.</p><p>There seemed to be an odd sort of delay, accompanied by a profound silence and Merlin cautiously raised his eyes. The scene he beheld sent a shock through his frail body as if he had been struck by a bolt of lightning.</p><p>Before him stood the Steward with a stern and exasperated expression on his face. But behind him stood the King. He regarded Merlin with a look of outrage the boy had never yet witnessed on anyone’s face. Arthur sat at the heavy wooden table to his left, then the squires Alfred and Ewan. And finally, good, kind Sir Leon. All the knights carried looks of astonishment and frowned at him.</p><p>In utter despair and shock, Merlin dropped to his knees. He could no longer suppress his violent trembling and crying, hiding his face in his hands.</p><p>So Arthur had already come to report to the Steward that Merlin had not brought him his breakfast. And the King, oh, now he remembered, the King had ordered him tied to the post last night, ready to be flogged in the morning. But Merlin had not been there; his absence would be seen as insubordination. The squires who had caused him so much suffering throughout the last few days had come to witness his humiliation, he supposed, and Sir Leon, oh, Sir Leon would see him for the failure he really was. Merlin had dared to open his heart to this knight, had dared to complain about his condition. No doubt, Sir Leon had reported this attitude to the King and the Steward and now…now…</p><p>Merlin continued to sob louder in his anguish. He didn’t know what these people would do to him and he felt so flushed and tired and everything hurt.</p><p>“Merlin! What on earth…?”</p><p>At Arthur’s shout, Merlin’s hands dropped down to the floor by his sides. There they lay, shaking and trembling and Merlin couldn’t stop them. The knee Alfred had injured during the river rescue was throbbing and lanced a spasm of sharp pain through his body.</p><p>“What are you doing here, boy?” This was the King and Merlin choked on his sobs he felt so afraid. But he didn’t dare to ignore the King’s dread voice. Making a last effort, Merlin tried to control his coughing and sobbing.</p><p>“Sire,…I…the Steward asked me to report here this morning to…” There was no point, Merlin needed to be utterly truthful. He was found out anyway. “…to punish me for failing to complete all my chores for Arthur yesterday…” Another heavy sob interrupted his string of words.</p><p>“When I asked about these chores yesterday, you told me you had completed them!”</p><p>Technically, it had been Arthur who had lied to the King. But what could Merlin do? If he said as much to the King, Arthur would turn around and flat out deny it as he had refused to admit his guilt after tripping Merlin in the marketplace the day before, shattering Gaius’ glass jars. And the King himself would…Merlin didn’t even know what was done to servants who dared accuse royalty.</p><p>However, to Merlin’s surprise, Arthur spoke at this, “Father, it was me you asked whether Merlin had completed all his duties to my satisfaction and I maintain what I said then: he had done all to MY satisfaction.“ If Merlin had not been so weary and terrified, he would have smiled at the Prince’s attempt to cover for him. It was touching. But it would be useless. Whatever Arthur told his father, Merlin had learned enough about the castle’s hierarchy to know that, in the end, it was Merlin who would have to pay for not finishing all his tasks.</p><p>As Merlin had predicted, the King ignored Arthur’s attempted intervention and returned his focus to the kneeling serving boy.</p><p>“You had not completed your chores for Arthur when I asked yesterday?”</p><p>Merlin didn’t know how to reply to the King. The cold and hot shivers made it difficult for him to think coherently and he was vaguely aware of swaying back and forth on his knees. Why couldn’t the King leave him be? Why would he insist on humiliating him further? Was it not enough that they would all soon witness Merlin being disciplined by the Steward? And then there was the flogging as well that Merlin would have to suffer afterwards.</p><p>Perhaps seeing further evidence of his failures as a servant, the King would even increase the number of lashes. And Merlin had made it so easy for him.</p><p>Merlin blinked heavy tears from his eyes; his lips quivered as he slowly shook his head. “No, Sire.” Then he waited again, forlorn, hopeless and dejected.</p><p>He heard some movement, then steps approached and he shivered as hands grabbed him by his arms to pull him to his feet.</p><p>Merlin let himself be helped and although he did not dare to look the person before him in the face, he recognised the red tunic as that of the Steward. Merlin swallowed and steadied himself. Then he moved towards the wall, stretched out with both hands and leant slightly forward against it. If he had to face this beating in front of all these witnesses, he would at least maintain this last dignity: to submit willingly and bear it as best as he could.</p><p>It was utterly silent in the room and Merlin couldn’t understand why he was being tormented in this way. Why hadn’t the Steward begun to lash out with his belt yet? The longer Merlin stood and waited, the more his arms and legs began to tremble and he was so scared of falling down weakly before all these people.</p><p>Then finally there was a scraping sound and shuffling of feet and Merlin closed his eyes and gritted his teeth in anticipation. He only hoped he would be able to stifle any sounds of pain.</p><p>He almost dropped in earnest when he was grabbed gently by the shoulders and lifted to stand upright. It was Arthur and Merlin felt so weak that he had to lean into him.</p><p>“Merlin, Merlin! What are you doing?” Somehow, Arthur’s voice sounded sickly and choked. Merlin raised his wet eyes to the Prince in confusion.</p><p>“Arthur?”</p><p>“Merlin.” The Prince strengthened the support of his manservant’s body and Merlin was glad of it. He gave his Prince a grateful look but then shook his head.</p><p>“Arthur, you need to let go of me. The Steward will discipline me with his belt. I need to stand by the wall.” He weakly tried to shrug off Arthur’s arms, wondering whether the Steward would dare to bring down the belt if the Prince was still holding him. All this didn’t make sense.</p><p>“Why do you think he will beat you, Merlin?”</p><p>How could the Prince be so thick? Merlin scowled but replied in resignation. “You asked him to yesterday, remember? Because of my many, many unfinished chores.”</p><p>Arthur made a sound that reminded Merlin oddly of a sniffle and he raised his eyes to the Prince’s face. Something wasn’t right but he couldn’t figure out what.</p><p>“And then…then this morning, I didn’t bring you breakfast and then I was late and the Steward had to wait for me.” Arthur continued to make the sniffling sound, holding on tighter to Merlin.</p><p>“What’s wrong, Arthur? Are you ill?” Merlin now opened his eyes widely in worry. He put a hot hand on the Prince’s forehead but couldn’t tell whether the heat there came from the Prince or himself. Puzzled, he regarded the Prince again carefully, then concern for him made him seek out help from the other faces in the room. All of them were fixed on the two boys.</p><p>He found the gaze of the King, “Something’s wrong with Prince Arthur, Sire!” Someone needed to interfere, to help. Maybe they needed to take the Prince to Gaius.</p><p>“I’m fine Merlin.” The Prince started to assure his manservant but the boy wasn’t convinced.</p><p>“Is it because I didn’t bring you breakfast?”</p><p>Arthur shook his head and then screwed up his face, biting his lip as if to hold something in. Merlin was still confused, he blinked and frowned, trying to remember any symptoms Gaius had mentioned that might point him to what was wrong with the Prince.</p><p>“Have YOU had anything to eat this morning, boy?”</p><p>Merlin’s concern for Arthur had nearly managed to push the thought of his own predicament to the back of his mind. Now his trembling returned full force at the King’s question. He remembered: the King had ordered him not to eat or rest till he had completed Arthur’s chores.</p><p>In defiance of these orders, Merlin had slept and, last night, someone had given him a bowl of stew. They had said the King had allowed it. But now Merlin thought they must have been mistaken. New tears welled up in his eyes.</p><p>“Answer me.” The King said, not forceful but firm.</p><p>“Sire,” Merlin reached out his hands in supplication, pleading despondently. “I ate last night. I know you forbade me to. Please, Sire, please don’t add more lashes to my flogging!”</p><p>Unbidden, the sounds of the first whipping Merlin had witnessed in Ealdor came to his mind: the vicious snarling and cracking of the lash, the horrible screams. Merlin’s frame began to shake violently and the boy made to fall to his knees before the King. There wasn’t much hope yet he couldn’t but plead for mercy.</p><p>
  <em>Anything! Anything but the lash!</em>
</p><p>But the Prince wouldn’t let him go and Merlin felt Arthur struggle to hold him up.</p><p>Both the Steward and Sir Leon moved forward simultaneously when Merlin’s shaking and struggling almost caused the two boys to topple. At this, Merlin pulled desperately away from the Prince and threw himself backwards, his eyes only on the approaching Steward.</p><p>The man noticed the boy’s reaction and stopped but Merlin continued to cower on the floor, hyperventilating. When Sir Leon approached and knelt down by his side, Merlin flinched but did not scramble away.</p><p>“Merlin, calm down. It’s alright. You won’t be beaten by the Steward.”</p><p>“No, Sir Leon, no. He will…he has to. The Prince ordered it and I was late and I ate. And I am a terrible servant...,” Merlin was again sobbing uncontrollably.</p><p>Then the King’s voice sounded once more. “Sir Leon, please take the boy away. Back to his chambers. I will come to find him there later and…”</p><p>But something snapped in Merlin’s fever-addled mind at that. He realised what was happening, why they were all here together. They hadn’t come to witness his punishment. They had just waited for him to take him to the flogging post. Now, Sir Leon had been ordered to confine Merlin to his room and the King would come and find him and then…</p><p>“Sir Leon, please, please, no,” Merlin begged, frantically trying to hide from the King’s eyes behind the knight.</p><p>But the knight didn’t seem to understand. “Merlin, don’t worry. I promise you the Steward won’t harm you. I’m just going to take you…”</p><p>
  <em>No, no, no! Anything but the lash! </em>
</p><p>Merlin’s feverish eyes looked around the room wildly and his mind finally supplied him with one last chance. One last man he could appeal to. He had never shown a willingness to listen to Merlin or to show mercy but Merlin didn’t mean to plead for mercy from him.</p><p>Merlin pushed himself off the floor and in a final effort launched himself at the Steward.</p><p>“Please, Sir, please. You can beat me, beat me as much as you like. Just don’t let the King come and take me…” Merlin’s white and shaking fingers found the Steward’s belt and he tried to pull it off the man.</p><p>
  <em>Anything but the lash!</em>
</p><p>The Steward took a step back, almost as if Merlin’s frenzy frightened him. Then he reacted very oddly. He took the boy’s pale and wet face in his hands, turned it towards his and looked at him sadly. Merlin stilled and was silent.</p><p>“Merlin...I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I promise to treat you better in the future.” Then the Steward grimaced in an odd sort of way, turned his head quickly but then handed the weak boy back to the Prince.</p><p>And Merlin’s last hope shattered. He stopped his struggle and closed his eyes in weary compliance.</p><p>“Perhaps it might be best if you take him, Prince Arthur. He seems completely panicked and you seem to have the most calming influence over him.”</p><p>The Prince looked to his father and the King nodded, still outraged that such a travesty could have happened under his very nose, that a young boy could have been reduced to this by mistreatment, malnourishment and the indifference of the rules of his own household. He himself had contributed so much to the boy’s state. Clearly, the boy even now thought that he had been wrong to eat or that the King would have him flogged because he didn’t complete his chores.</p><p>“Arthur, take him. Sir Leon, please help my son. Find Gaius and make sure the boy is not able to leave his chambers again.”</p><p>Both the Prince and the senior knight nodded. Then they almost carried Merlin between them, out through the door and along the corridors.</p><p>Merlin let himself be pulled along, head bobbing, docile, submissive. He knew that all had been for nothing. All his suffering, his pleading, his willingness to offer up his back to the belt instead of the lash - all for nothing. The King had ordered him to be brought back to his chambers; he had said to make sure that Merlin wouldn’t escape. He would come and find him later.</p><p>Returning to Gaius’ chamber, the old man made an almighty fuss about Merlin having left his cot. Where had he gone? What did he think he was doing? Arthur and Sir Leon had spoken to Gaius and helped Merlin back into bed.</p><p>The boy closed his eyes as soon as he got there. He didn’t open them when Gaius rebandaged his injured arm. He didn’t even open them when Arthur had him drink from a cup of cold water or when Gaius stroked the hair out of his face gently. He didn’t react when the Prince and Sir Leon left the physician’s chambers soon afterwards. All Merlin could do now was lie back, maybe sleep, and hope that he might die before the King came to fetch him.</p><p>A last, hot tear escaped from under Merlin’s eyelids as the boy fell asleep, hopeless, dreaming of laughing with Will and being held safe in his mother’s arms, rocked to sleep. Safe, safe, safe.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you enjoy reading this. I certainly loved writing it even though some parts were really difficult. (Poor Merlin!)</p><p>I LOVE comments so, pretty please (and I am not above begging :D) leave one and tell me what you think.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <span class="u"> This part picks up where Smcstrav's story ends: What is the aftermath of everything that happened to Merlin and the changes that were decided by the King, Arthur and the Stewart? </span>
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Merlin nervously craned his neck to glance over his shoulder. The movement still caused him discomfort and he was also slightly worried about getting a crick in his neck. However, at this point, he needed to see and know.</p><p>At first, Gaius hadn’t been sure whether it would be a good idea and neither had Merlin. But so much had happened in the last few days, so many promises had been made, so many reparations. Merlin felt that this glance was now all he needed to finally close the painful chapter of his first three weeks in Camelot forever and to start afresh.</p><p>And today was his last and best chance to do so: after six days confined solely to bed and the physician’s chambers, Gaius had at last deemed him strong and healthy enough to take up his duties as Arthur’s manservant again.</p><p>Merlin had nearly died of the boredom and inactivity but after the first few days, he had known better than to complain. At first, Gaius had simply drugged him with sleeping draughts to keep him resting, then the old man, whenever Merlin had even been tempted to grumble at not being allowed to move, had reminded him that he had nearly died in earnest from exhaustion, malnourishment and injuries. Whenever he had reminded Merlin of this, the boy had looked at the floor sheepishly to avoid Gaius’ disappointed, grave and reproachful gaze.</p><p>“You should have told me, Merlin! I would never have allowed this to go so far.”</p><p>“’m sorry, Gaius.”</p><p>It all seemed so stupid to Merlin now. Why hadn’t he gone to Gaius for help? Or even Arthur? Now he knew they would have helped, would never have allowed the abuse to continue.</p><p>But no, it seemed stupid now because all was different now. Before, Merlin hadn’t known to call it abuse. He hadn’t known Arthur as he knew him now. He hadn’t known how much the Prince actually cared for him and how much he felt responsible for making sure his manservant was treated well and fairly. Perhaps the Prince hadn’t even known all that himself.</p><p>Merlin wondered: would the Prince always have wanted to look out for him, had he known? Or did Merlin’s ordeal bring about this change in Arthur?</p><p>Merlin wasn’t sure. But he was pretty sure that Arthur had come and apologised to him, even though the King had told him not to. Merlin was also pretty sure that he had dared to tell the Prince that a servant was just as valuable a life as a knight or a person of nobility. And Merlin was sure that Arthur had agreed. He had felt the strangest sense of elation after their conversation, probably in part helped by the sleeping draught Gaius force-fed him soon afterwards.</p><p>To some degree, he had felt the same sense of elation ever since but its quality would fluctuate strangely between stark, undeniable reality and the feeling that all this was too good to be anything but a dream.</p><p>Whenever the latter feeling began to spread through Merlin’s mind, the boy immediately tried to shake it off, to regain the sense of reality. For if all that had happened during his rehabilitation had only been a dream, Merlin never again wanted to wake up to the reality of what had been before. So much shame and despair and pain. He knew if he did wake up and find all the last days to have been but a dream, he might as well die.</p><p>Looking at his healing injuries in the mirror was part of Merlin’s strategy to claim this new reality and to hold on to it and the chance it offered to make a fresh start.</p><p>About half an hour ago, a guard, at Gaius’ request, had brought up a long mirror to the physician’s room and placed it under one of the windows lit up by the morning sunlight. Gaius had then continued his pottering while Merlin had sat uncertainly on his cot.</p><p>He hadn’t really known how to ask Gaius but, thankfully, his mentor soon realised that the boy needed to be alone with this.</p><p>“I’ll start my rounds in the castle now, Merlin. Will you be alright?”</p><p>“Of course, Gaius! I’ve told you days ago that I would have been fine to start working again.”</p><p>“Well,” Gaius said with a smile and a huff, “thankfully, I am the physician and I have the authority to order a patient to stay in bed no matter whether that patient believes himself strong enough or not.”</p><p>At this, the old man approached Merlin and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. Merlin looked into his eyes at this and perceived a hint of worry behind layers of care and affection.</p><p>“You will take it easy and will let Prince Arthur or I know immediately if things should…go badly again, won’t you, Merlin?”</p><p>Merlin’s eyes flicked to the mirror standing at Gaius’ back. Soon, it would show him the evidence of just how badly things had gone for him so far. And hadn’t most of it been his fault?</p><p>“Merlin!” Gaius’ voice became stern and Merlin felt compelled to look into the old man’s face again. “It wasn’t your fault! Stop blaming yourself. You did your very best and whatever suffering you had to endure, it wasn’t because you’re a poor servant.”</p><p>Merlin looked at his hands, clenched on the edge of the cot. Then he nodded without looking up.</p><p>“I mean it, Merlin! It wasn’t your fault that some of your masters developed an aversion to you or that they did not understand the variety of duties you were tasked with! They should have looked after you better, trained you, encouraged you. Arthur should have looked after you better…”</p><p>A sudden wetness hit the back of Merlin’s left hand and the boy’s face looked up in shock.</p><p>“Gaius!”</p><p>“I should have looked after you better! I should have noticed…” Another tear slid down the wrinkly face and Merlin shook his head frantically.</p><p>“It’s not your fault either, Gaius! I didn’t tell you…I was stupid. I thought you’d be ashamed and disappointed…! How should you have known when I was consciously trying to hide it.”</p><p>Merlin gave a mirthless chuckle.</p><p>“You know how practised I am at hiding my secrets, Gaius!”</p><p>A soft smile curled Gaius’ lip at that. “If only you were so good at hiding THAT as you would have me believe.”</p><p>“I am always careful!”</p><p>“I think your definition of ‘careful’ is rather sketchy, Merlin!”</p><p>Then Gaius’ had taken Merlin’s face in both hands and became serious again. “Promise me you will stop blaming yourself and you will let us know if something else happens?”</p><p>Merlin nodded. Then he began to smile, “If you promise that you won’t blame yourself anymore either.”</p><p>At this, Gaius fondly ruffled Merlin’s hair then stepped over to the table to fetch his medicine bag. Before he exited the chambers, he gave Merlin another meaningful look and threw a rather obvious glance in the direction of the mirror. Then he was gone.</p><p>Merlin had hesitated only for a moment. The servants’ breakfast was about to start and soon afterwards he had to be at Arthur’s chambers with a steaming plate of something to appease the royal morning grumpiness. There wasn’t much time to think now. And he’d done way too much thinking over the last few days anyway.</p><p>Merlin had begun by checking his backside and legs. He knew there had been fewer injuries there and it would be easier for him.</p><p>Now, there were only faint imprints still visible where the Captain’s sword had fallen all over the back of the lower half of his body. It had been so unbearably painful then; now, there were only faint traces of pink remaining and Merlin no longer felt any discomfort when sitting.</p><p>As Merlin pulled up his trousers again, he reflected a little grumpily that those lines of pink were the reason Gaius had extended his period of convalescence for a second time. Initially, he had predicted that Merlin would be allowed to get up after two days. When Merlin was still slightly feverish after that time had elapsed, Gaius had then ordered a bedrest of yet another two days. However, as the physician and the Prince had listened to Merlin slowly and hesitatingly give an account of each punishment he had received since his appointment, Gaius had suddenly exclaimed in surprise when his ward described the beating with the broadside of the sword administered by the Captain in the dungeons.</p><p>Without observing the usual formalities, the Prince had immediately been ushered out of the room and ordered to wait outside the door while Gaius had Merlin turn around to check the injuries he had not yet discovered on the boy’s body. While cleaning and spreading a salve over the welts, Gaius had continued to berate Merlin for not mentioning this sooner and had then prescribed an additional two days in bed. At this, both Merlin and Arthur, who, although outside, had been perfectly able to follow the physician’s vociferous scolding of his manservant, began to whine and grumble. They were very quickly shut down by the physician and the Prince was unceremoniously told not to come for another visit that day. Merlin had felt that he was being doubly punished.</p><p>Despite knowing that the next part would be the most difficult, Merlin had smiled slightly at this memory as he carefully raised his arms and pulled his new blue tunic over his head. He wouldn’t normally have worn such a special and new item on his first day back at work but the shirt, which had mysteriously appeared by his bedside during his sleep on Merlin’s third day of recovery, was made of a very soft and comfortable material. It felt lovely to wear on his back and did not irritate any of his wounds. Certainly, it had been made from a fabric Merlin would never have been able to afford. Naturally, the boy had no proof but he thought that the squire Ewan who had, that day, been helping out Gaius in Merlin’s stead, might have had a hand in procuring so fine a garment.</p><p>The vibrant blue of the tunic was now carefully laid across the physician’s workbench and Merlin breathed in heavily a few times before turning his head to look over his left shoulder at his reflection. He stared for a moment, scowling, then began to bite his lip.</p><p>He knew it had looked much, much worse. And it had felt much worse as well. It had been so agonising that, until now, Merlin had had no wish to see something that would only make him feel more frightened and nauseous.</p><p>It looked so much better now, Gaius had said and even Arthur, although he hadn’t directly commented, had looked less pained and guilty with each day.</p><p>But it was still bad enough.</p><p>Merlin saw that most stripes were no longer as vibrant in colour as Gaius had first described them. Instead of dark purple, blue, or black, the welts now showed more gentle pastel colours: pink, yellow, green. Some marks had even faded entirely, especially on the outer rim of his back where the blows would have landed less frequently.</p><p>Merlin tried to wriggle his shoulders and noticed that the pain from these wounds had also been reduced to something more pastel and itchy. They didn’t feel hot and angry anymore.</p><p>And then there were the dark red lines, some straight and thin, some jagged and still more pronounced. These, Merlin knew, were what remained of the lacerations created mainly by the beltings he had suffered several times at the hand of the Steward.</p><p>Merlin again moved his shoulders and twisted his spine back and forth. Gaius maintained that the infection had gone from these but Merlin still felt them most keenly.</p><p>As Merlin’s eyes began to water and his neck became stiff from looking so intently over his shoulder in such an unnatural position, Merlin slowly turned his head the other way, now looking over his right shoulder.</p><p>He hadn’t asked Gaius but he didn’t really need to. These lacerations would scar. Perhaps, one day, the memories of the pain and humiliation would dim. One day, Merlin would no longer wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, trying to escape the threatening faces and vile instruments of punishment he encountered in his dreams. But on his back, he would always carry the marks, like a criminal, like one of the people he had seen flogged by King Cenred’s soldiers during his childhood in Ealdor.</p><p>Merlin’s lips trembled and he swiped angrily at a tear that escaped down his cheek as he pulled his tunic back over his head. He had been recompensed, had received promises of a new and better start, had even received apologies from Arthur, Sir Leon (God only knew why Sir Leon thought he needed to apologise to Merlin!) and the two squires. Now, Merlin had to forgive in turn. He had to. There would be no point trying to move on without forgiveness.</p><p>He had been granted redemption; now it was his turn to return the favour.</p><p>I want to, really, but it’s so hard, Merlin thought. And there were still a few people in the castle he had not yet encountered since their involvement in Merlin’s ordeal had become apparent. Merlin had been told by the Prince to expect kinder and fairer treatment– but he had not yet heard it from the mouths of the people who held Merlin’s daily life and welfare in their hands.</p><p>Merlin swallowed and pushed back his shoulders.</p><p>“I am ready to face them!” he said aloud to his mirror image, reassuring it. But the image nevertheless stared back pale and worried, breathing quickly. A little truthful voice in Merlin’s head maintained, <em>But you are still afraid, aren’t you?</em></p><p>Merlin and his image nodded slowly.</p><p>“I am.” A shaky sigh. “I am so afraid.”</p><p><em>Well, come on then</em>, the little voice encouraged<em>. No time like the present to find out what these people think about the Prince’s promises. And if something should happen…</em></p><p>“I’ll let Arthur know. And Gaius!”</p><p>
  <em>Yes!</em>
</p><p>Mind made up, Merlin strode firmly to the door and was halfway towards the kitchen before the voice once again dared to pipe up.</p><p>
  <em>Typical! First day back and you are already late for servants’ breakfast again.</em>
</p><p>And the boy hurried on, desperate to show himself and everyone else that they had all been mistaken in him. Oh, and there was also the matter of his stomach urgently demanding some food after it had been so dangerously stuffed and spoiled by Gaius for the last few days.</p><p>It had been during his fourth day of confinement in his room, when Merlin had been shocked out of a light and nightmare-riddled slumber by a shout and sounds that sounded oddly like a stampede of feet crossing Gaius’ stone floor.</p><p>Only just emerging from his equally terrifying dream, Merlin had sat up and scrambled to the far end of his bed, his bandaged back flat against the wall, convinced that the guards in his dream, sent to retrieve him to be flogged, had materialised in the real world.</p><p>His movement had shaken the old bedframe significantly and caused a tray full of food which Gaius must have placed on his too small side table to fall raucously to the floor.</p><p>Heart racing, Merlin glanced up at the faces of Arthur, Sir Leon and the squires Ewan and Alfred, each sporting the same surprised expression. There was a short, stunned silence as the visitors took in Merlin’s state, the broken crockery and food rolling on the ground or seeping away through the cracks of the floorboards.</p><p>“Merlin!” Arthur said with exasperation. “How on earth is it possible for you to be clumsy and upset a room even while you’re stuck in bed, injured?”</p><p>Merlin glanced up uncertainly, then noticed that all of the men seemed to suppress smirks of amusement and he raised his head a little more surely.</p><p>“Sorry, Sire. But you startled me. I had been asleep.”</p><p>“Having nice dreams, did you, while I have to do without a manservant?” Arthur asked teasingly.</p><p>Merlin’s smile faltered and he swallowed, uncertain how truthful he could be. But it seemed that immediately after Arthur had made his statement, the Prince realised what he had done and the embarrassment he was causing his servant.</p><p>“Merlin, I’m…I know you probably don’t have very nice dreams right now…We’re…Erm…,” beginning to stammer, Arthur turned around to look for more eloquent support from Sir Leon or the squires. Merlin’s eyes also turned to them.</p><p>Sir Leon, realising that he was the most senior of the group and still least likely to frighten Merlin, took a step forward and took up the Prince’s explanation.</p><p>“But we’re here, Merlin, to hopefully help you to forget…,” the knight shook his head at the ill-chosen words, “move on from what has happened to you. We’ve brought good news that will maybe provide a remedy against your nightmares.”</p><p>“Really?” Merlin asked, slightly taken aback. Gaius had already tried all manner of potions on him; none had yet been able to improve his mental fears or provide easier rest for him.</p><p>At this, Arthur, Sir Leon and the squires had each nodded their heads like an odd collection of marionette dolls on strings and the image had the corners of Merlin’s lips turn up.</p><p>Arthur then cleared his throat and at a sign, he and the two squires stepped forward, careful not to tread on any victuals, and laid three sizeable bags on the worn, brown blanket that was scrunched up at the end of Merlin’s bed. They clinked strangely and Merlin began to frown.</p><p>“What is this?” He asked, confused, his eyes ranging from Arthur to the squires and back.</p><p>It was the first time one of the squires had uttered a word, “Our reparations to you, Merlin.” Merlin noticed how Ewan’s ears turned to a bright flame at his words.</p><p>“Re…reparations?”</p><p>“For the abominable way we treated you and your possessions. We…we’re very sorry, Merlin.” Alfred’s small voice almost caused his apology to be lost.</p><p>Again, silence followed and Merlin became aware that the men waited for him to open and inspect the bags. He gasped when he opened the first: a good number of golden coins lit up the inside of the bag with a reddish-orange glint as light from Merlin’s window fell on them.</p><p>“But…this is gold! You can’t give me gold…,” Merlin held out the bag to the Prince, meaning to hand it back to him. The Prince did not take the bag from his servant.</p><p>“The gold is yours, Merlin. Ten gold coins from each of us. To compensate you. I’m also…well, you know. I’m your Master and I neglected to look after you properly. Take it, it’s yours.” Arthur said finally, gently pushing Merlin’s outstretched hand away.</p><p>“But…I’ve never had…,” Merlin’s breath quickened. He looked again with fascination at the inside of the bag then at the yet unopened riches on his bedspread. “I don’t think I’ve ever even held gold coins in my hand. I don’t know what to do with them.”</p><p>The visitors chuckled at the helpless look Merlin cast them.</p><p>“Don’t worry,” Sir Leon reassured him kindly. “I’m sure you’ll find a use for it. But now, you better prepare yourself Merlin…”</p><p>The boy tensed up, the hand still clutching the money bag suddenly white and clenched on the leather material.</p><p>“What? What did I do?”</p><p>Sir Leon was quick to react; he hadn’t meant to frighten the boy again, only to prevent him from feeling too overwhelmed with what they had yet to reveal to him.</p><p>“Merlin, don’t worry. You haven’t done anything. We told you…it’s good news.” At this, the senior knight untied another leather pouch from his belt and handed it to the dumb-struck servant.</p><p>“This…this is ALSO for me? But you’ve already given me so much! And you’ve been punished by the King, as well, doing chores with Gaius and elsewhere in the castle, didn’t you? And there were the stocks as well, I heard…,” Merlin quickly bowed his head and bit his lip, trying to suppress the grin that had often graced his face ever since he had heard about the Prince and the squires spending time in the stocks. He had really tried not to find it so amusing, but he couldn’t help it when he pictured his prat of a Prince, stuck in the wooden frame, rotten remains of vegetables slowly and dramatically dripping off his golden brow while the public prepared another battery.</p><p>He’d been there so often; he knew that being in the stocks was no laughing matter, that it was a terrible form of torture. But then he pictured Arthur’s face yet again…and those vegetables, the slopping sound they would make as they hit the cobbles to the Prince’s feet and splashed his royal trousers…</p><p>“Merlin!” the Prince said a little sharply, clearly realising just what was going through Merlin’s head.</p><p>Merlin cleared his throat, forcing his attention to return to the four men in front of him.</p><p>“Sorry!”</p><p>“This, Merlin,” Sir Leon continued as if there had been no interruption, “isn’t a compensation for ill-treatment or punishment. These are your earnings for this month. Your first salary as a servant at the royal court of Camelot.”</p><p>Merlin bit his lip. That sounded so grand and glamorous. So far, it had been anything but. The knight held out the heavy bag, the money inside very temptingly clinking. But the boy shook and lowered his head, sitting back a little further on his bed.</p><p>“No, Sir Leon. I don’t earn anything this month. I…I broke the plates washing up, remember? And the glass jars at the market? The masters said they would take it out of my pay, ten for the plates, twenty for the flasks. That’s thirty silver exactly.” A bitter chuckle issued unbidden from the boy then. “I guess I’m lucky I didn’t destroy anything else or the Steward would have had me pay to work!”</p><p>As if suddenly aware that what he had said had been audible, Merlin glanced up and around, almost as if expecting the man in question to appear from a corner to discipline him for his smart mouth.</p><p>“Sorry,” Merlin muttered to no one in particular.</p><p>Then Sir Leon was suddenly sitting on his bed, looking into Merlin’s eyes and pressing the pouch into the boy’s hands.</p><p>“No, Merlin. These ARE your fair earnings. 400 silver coins a month for your job as the Crown Prince’s manservant.”</p><p>Merlin’s head jerked up in surprise and the look he gave each of the men was scared and uncertain, clearly trying to figure out whether they were teasing him.</p><p>“400? But…but I only earn 30 per month. The Steward told me when I first started. Sir Leon, this is a mistake. Please, you must return the money to the Steward before he misses it. He might assume that I…he might think that I stole it!”</p><p>Now Arthur was at the other side of Merlin’s bed, laying a reassuring hand on his servant’s shoulder.</p><p>“Don’t worry. We…that is, the King, Sir Leon, the squires here and I had a long and thorough meeting with the Steward. In fact, you stumbled in on it, do you remember?”</p><p>Oh yes, Merlin remembered only too well the fear and shock and despair of that morning.</p><p>“Well, we discussed quite a few things, including a fair salary for you. The Steward agreed that 400 silver coins a month would be more appropriate compensation for my personal servant.” At this, Arthur reached out and closed Merlin’s fingers around the pouch in his palm.</p><p>Merlin carefully eased open the bag, peering inside as if cautious that the contents would rear up and bite him. Then suddenly he reached inside and retrieved a fair few coins, beginning to count them. Arthur frowned in puzzlement. However, Sir Leon was immediately aware what Merlin was doing.</p><p>“No need, Merlin. The Steward has been told to pay for the plates and the glass jars by himself since you breaking them had everything to do with having been starved, sleep-deprived and abused by him and others for such a long time.”</p><p>The knight had guessed the servant’s intentions correctly and was happy to see a slow and slightly wet smile spread across the boy’s face.</p><p>Merlin then blinked furiously. “Thank you,” he whispered. He didn’t know what else to say. Slowly he took the four leather bags and dropped them by the side of his bed out of sight, acutely aware that he would have to find a better way to store his wealth before long. How much would it cost to buy seed grain and enough firewood for the winter for a village, he wondered absent-mindedly.</p><p>But his visitors were still not finished and Merlin returned his attention to them, aware from their expressions that there was more to come.</p><p>It was again Arthur who started speaking. “The Steward –“ Merlin flinched violently at the mention of the man.</p><p>“The Steward,” Arthur said again, an uncommon gentleness stealing into his voice when he observed his servant’s reaction, “has also been ordered to pay you 500 silver coins as compensation for the abuse you have suffered at his hands.”</p><p>Merlin gaped, not able to believe his ears.</p><p>“However, he will give you this personally as he has been ordered by the King.”</p><p>At this, Merlin scowled and once again glanced around as if expecting the Steward to invade his room right this second.</p><p>“Remember, when you are back at work,” Arthur continued, “he will also personally provide training for you to make sure that you have sufficient skills to fulfil the demands of each of your areas of responsibility. And don’t worry!”</p><p>As before, when he had been told for the first time, Merlin had tried to suppress a shudder at the prospect of spending extended periods of time in the presence of the Steward, knowing him to be a harsh and impatient man, hard to please.</p><p>“He has been threatened with the charge of assaulting a commoner if he should ever deviate in his penal practices from those acceptable at our court.”</p><p>Merlin swallowed and shook his head in confusion. He didn’t know what the acceptable penal practices in Camelot entailed, had only known the punishments he had received from his masters. No one had called it abuse until recently; until then, Merlin had assumed that what he received was the acceptable standard and he was simply an abysmal servant to merit correction so very often.</p><p>Arthur seemed to read his thoughts on his face but, not knowing much about it himself, was unable to explain things more fully for his servant. However, he could still reassure him.</p><p>“Also, neither the Steward or any other Master is allowed from this point onwards to mete out or administer any sort of punishment for you unless I have first been informed of it.”</p><p>Merlin searched the Prince’s face at that, then he began to smile with some hesitation. “Are you sure you want this, Sire? You might have your hands quite full with all the reports coming in.” Merlin’s smile faded as swiftly as it had appeared and he looked at the floor again, preoccupied.</p><p>The Prince’s hand on his shoulder called him out of his reverie.</p><p>“Merlin…I’ve had my hands pretty full since you started as my manservant.” When the boy seemed uncertain whether the Prince meant this as a reproach or a joke, he gave the servant a comforting shoulder squeeze. “I’m getting used to it…and I’d probably get bored if it wasn’t like this.”</p><p>Merlin then gave the Prince an amused and mockingly outraged look.</p><p>“Also, your masters shall report all your chores to me so that I can ensure you won’t be overwhelmed and have enough time to eat and rest as well.”</p><p>Merlin blinked at his Prince, still doubtful but with obvious gratitude in his features.</p><p>The Prince then rose from the boy’s bedside, as did Sir Leon, and the men, as one, turned to the door to leave. Merlin stared at his hands, still open-mouthed at all these revelations that had been made to him this morning.</p><p>“Ah, Merlin, before I forget…”</p><p>Merlin lifted his head to his Prince once again.</p><p>“You may now take your meals whenever you find the time. Obviously, stick to the servants’ mealtimes whenever you can, but the Steward has agreed that as someone with such a multitude of duties in various areas of the castle and beyond, you can receive food at other times also. The cook has been instructed to let you have as much as you need…especially now.” Arthur smiled slightly at some memory. “I can’t say she was…particularly pleased about this but I told her I can’t have my servant being as thin as a feather, prone to being blown away by a gust of wind when we’re out hunting.”</p><p>Merlin gave the Prince a look of obvious displeasure at the mention of hunting trips but then his eyes began to crinkle at the corners and his face split in the first genuine and easy smile Arthur had received from his servant for weeks.</p><p>“Thank you, Arthur!”</p><p>The Prince fought for a moment to find the right words, then simply settled for dipping his head before exiting, following his knight and the squires back out through Gaius’ chambers.</p><p>When the physician checked on the boy shortly afterwards, Merlin was lying back, relaxed, his eyes open and strangely glistening in the light from the window. He was fingering a leather pouch absently and Gaius closed the door with a fond smile, seeing that the boy needed some time to himself.</p><p>When Merlin heard the latch of the door click into place, he exhaled and slowly closed his eyes. His fingertips could feel the clean, smooth circles of the gold coins through the leather and although the boy could not yet fully digest what had just happened, he felt more at peace than ever since he had come to Camelot. It was a feeling of comfort and belonging that meant there were people who cared for him, looked out for him and in whose presence he could feel safe.</p><p>It was this feeling and the revelations that had led to it which had first enabled Merlin to find it in himself to move on, to truly believe that he would be granted a fresh start, to feel that redemption and forgiveness would be possible on both sides.</p><p>It was this sense of peace and safety that Merlin desperately tried to cling to as he entered the kitchen, his fingers nervously twisted on the bottom hem of his new, fine tunic. It was all good and well to have the Prince’s promises that all would be different. As Merlin stepped into the smell of cooking fat, strong seasoning and other foodstuffs being prepared in the hot denseness of the kitchen, he reflected that it was quite another matter to trust that these promises would be kept in practice.</p><p>It did not help at all that, as soon as Merlin had stepped through the ever-present smoke of the stoves towards the long staff tables, the other servants seated there immediately stopped talking and all turned to him simultaneously.</p><p>Merlin stopped in his tracks and his eyes widened, looking around at faces that had, heretofore, seen him humiliated and beaten publicly because he had failed in his duties and thus, created more work for everyone else. Back then, he had only rarely spoken to any of his fellow servants, mostly avoiding them in shame and, as it had seemed, being avoided by them in turn.</p><p>Their sudden interest this morning frightened the boy. He could not tell whether the faces were friendly or disapproving. Quickly, with hunched shoulders and trying not to catch anyone’s eye by accident, Merlin walked to the end of one of the tables and slumped down.</p><p>Immediately, subdued murmuring ensued and Merlin was suddenly aware that even though he had sat down to eat, in his anxiety to remove himself from the centre of attention, he had omitted to pick up his bowl of breakfast gruel. Embarrassingly, he now either had to sit idly, without anything to eat or get up once again, drawing all eyes to the fact that he couldn’t even remember to get his own food. No wonder he constantly forgot any number of his chores!</p><p>As Merlin frantically racked his brain to decide on the least embarrassing course of action, a huge, steaming bowl of breakfast gruel suddenly clanked down in front of him, together with a spoon and cup of water.</p><p>Merlin looked up in surprise, then he began to smile as Clarke sidled into the seat opposite, also clutching a spoon, bowl and drink for himself.</p><p>“Well, Merlin, I must say you do know how to make an entrance.”</p><p>Blushing slightly but still smiling at his friend, Merlin mumbled, “I didn’t really do anything. I just walked in and everyone started staring.”</p><p>“Well,” said Clarke, took a spoonful of gruel, blew on it and then proceeded to munch it with relish, clearly enjoying the fact that Merlin had to hang on his lips, impatiently waiting for the other boy to finish his sentence.</p><p>Finally, Clarke swallowed. “It’s perhaps not something you have done now. I think it’s what you’ve been doing ever since you came to Camelot that has given you the reputation of perhaps the most notorious servant in the castle’s history.”</p><p>Merlin flinched at this, slid down on his bench slightly to appear smaller and glanced around nervously. There was more reason than one why Merlin really, really couldn’t attract attention. Ideally, as his mother had often said, no one should ever notice him; he should stay invisible and in the background. Merlin highly doubted that ‘notorious’ would be a description of his first month in Camelot that his mother would approve of.</p><p>“I…I can’t be more…notorious than others, surely?”</p><p>“Merlin!” Clarke shook his head in laughing disbelief, his bowl already half-empty whereas Merlin had yet to touch his spoon. “You are this peasant boy who appears and challenges the Prince to a fight – “</p><p>“Well, it wasn’t quite like that – “</p><p>“Then rescues the Prince’s life and is given the office of his manservant by the King himself…and that was only the first three days, Merlin! Some servants don’t attract that much attention in an entire lifetime of service.”</p><p>Merlin again hunched his shoulders. He hadn’t asked for this and hearing it summarised in this way, like he was some kind of hero in a story, made his face feel hot and his palms begin to sweat.</p><p>“And now, you’ve overhauled a huge part of the Steward’s rules and regime – “</p><p>“That wasn’t me, Clarke,” Merlin whispered urgently. “It was the King and Prince Arthur who did all this. I had no idea about any of it – “</p><p>“Still, it’s because of you revealing all those injuries to every noble of the court – “</p><p>Angry now, Merlin interrupted again, “That wasn’t intentional. Sir Leon stepped in when the King had me about to be taken away to be flogged. I even tried not to show anyone the… the damage on my back but I was made to.”</p><p>“Calm down, Merlin,“ Clarke said appeasingly at that. “And eat your gruel or it’ll be cold.”</p><p>Merlin made a face at his friend but obediently began to spoon the meal into his mouth.</p><p>“I know you were made to do it. Nevertheless, that fact remains that due to you, everyone became aware of the abuse you and others suffer at the masters’ hands… and some of the other injustices of the system. The evidence your example provided even caused the King to take an interest and now rules and regulations for the servantry have been changed right, left and centre.”</p><p>At this, the young guard was evidently finished with his speech and gulped down his cup of water in one go.</p><p>Merlin ate another spoonful of gruel but then regarded his bowl with a frown.</p><p>“Clarke, do you know…,” the boy hesitated, incapable of expressing in words just what was worrying him. “Do you think the other servants hate me for all the changes that I brought? Or do you think they approve of them…of me?”</p><p>Again, the manservant peered around at the nearby faces, many pretending to be preoccupied with their food but clearly listening in on their conversation with great interest as they did not talk to their bench neighbours or mouths hung open unattractively with a portion of half-swallowed gruel slowly trickling out in strings at the corners.</p><p>Clarke had followed Merlin’s gaze and first made a face of disgust, then of clear amusement.</p><p>“I’d say don’t worry about it, Merlin. I think after an unskilled and unknown peasant boy from outside Camelot became the manservant to the Crown Prince you made far more enemies than with these changes. And the smart ones will soon realise that the regulations have changed for the better. Hopefully.”</p><p>Merlin had listened first with consternation than with a warm appreciation for his friend and the frankness and wisdom with which he had reasoned Merlin’s case. However, Clarke’s final word reminded him yet again of his fears about today and how many of the promises made by the Prince he could rely on to be kept.</p><p>Hopefully.</p><p>Both boys had sat silently subdued for a while after this, Clarke waiting for Merlin to finish his bowl and water. Then, shoulder to shoulder, the two boys walked towards the scullery to clean up and put away their breakfast dishes before starting their daily duties.</p><p>Merlin could still feel eyes from everywhere boring into him as he passed but he felt safer and more confident with Clarke at his side. At least he could be sure he had one friend among the servantry of the castle and Clarke was right: there was no way he was ever going to be able to please everyone, however much Merlin himself liked the idea of that.</p><p>Sometimes, Merlin reflected as he dried his bowl, I really am as soft-hearted as the Prince always says. But was that necessarily a bad thing?</p><p>Merlin felt the loss of safety and support keenly when Clarke clapped him on the back – lightly so as not to agitate any old wounds – and then ran towards the dungeons to take up his daily shift. The manservant knew he would see his friend again before the day was out as Clarke had insisted on daily visits all throughout Merlin’s convalescence. Clarke’s cheerful presence and proclivity to pick up and relate any interesting gossip had been a great comfort for Merlin and he wished he could have his friend by his side as he faced the new day.</p><p>Merlin walked over to the part of the kitchen where the trays for the nobility were laid out each morning, quickly recognising and seizing the Prince’s which was laden with a frankly outrageous amount of food. He sighed with relief as he kicked open the kitchen door and escaped into the greater privacy of the corridors.</p><p>As he quickly made his way to the other end of the castle where the royal family were housed, Merlin reflected how much easier it felt to go up and down stairs or balance a laden tray while traversing corridors when one’s back wasn’t injured and inflamed, each step exacerbating the pain and exhaustion one felt. He still felt it dully, truth be told, but he rejoiced in being now able to step lively and quickly without too much discomfort.</p><p>Before long – and that was new to him too – he reached the Prince’s door and opened it one-handed. As often before, he remembered too late that he was really supposed to knock but since this was breakfast time and the Prince usually wasn’t up and about at this point, the boy thought that it would matter very little.</p><p>To his surprise though, the curtains were drawn back, the room flooded with early brightness and the Prince himself stood illuminated from behind by the window like a golden hero of old. Merlin’s eyes widened for a moment and his mouth dropped open with a sudden sense of awe as he perceived an image of the Once and Future King that the dragon had told him about. Today, it seemed, new hope was brought out in every aspect of his life in Camelot, including in what he had been told was his destiny.</p><p>The Prince, meanwhile, had looked up from the letter he had been reading when the sudden visitor had not made any sound beyond opening and closing the door. When he saw his manservant stand motionless by the door, staring at him open-mouthed, the Prince blinked in surprise, then in mischievous amusement.</p><p>“Merlin? I could have guessed it was you crashing into my room like that – everyone else bothers knocking on the Crown Prince’s door, you see? – but if you already didn’t bother doing that, there is now no need to stand in petrified worship before me. I’d rather you brought over my breakfast!”</p><p>That seemed to shake Merlin out of his stupor. At this point, a hungry Prince was a lot more real and the potential for being grumpy and angry at him more probable than an imagined Once and Future King.</p><p>Merlin felt his face grow red immediately and he clumsily walked forwards, setting the tray on the Prince’s desk with a little bit more clatter than was absolutely necessary.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I was just…I saw you and…er…here is your breakfast!”</p><p>Arthur gave an amused chuckle as he settled down to eat.</p><p>“So I can see! And it’s on time too.”</p><p>Merlin assumed that there would normally have been a little bit more teasing, something along the lines of Merlin’s supposed speech-impairment or the fact that despite the timely victuals, Merlin had still arrived too late to wake the Prince.</p><p>However, the boy reflected as he moved over to the royal bed to straighten it after the night, the Prince was usually quick to stop his quipping when food awaited him and, perhaps, he was also more subdued because Merlin had only just been allowed to return to work.</p><p>How long will his behaviour towards me be affected by what has been before and my semi-invalid status, Merlin wondered as he shook out one of Arthur’s pillows.</p><p>There was no way of knowing. Nor was the boy sure whether he liked Arthur to be so careful around him. He had grown rather fond of their banter.</p><p>As if to prove Merlin right, the Prince, having watched his servant’s careful and calculated movements from his seat for a few moments, opened his mouth, made an incomprehensible sound, chewed his sausage some more before gulping it down and freeing his throat to speak intelligibly.</p><p>“Merlin, you’re…Did Gaius say you were well enough to come back to work now?” Then the Prince suddenly made a horrified face and Merlin’s heart skipped a beat, thinking that it had been caused by something he had done.</p><p>However, Arthur’s next words calmed the boy. “Just now, when you were standing still, were you…are you still in pain, Merlin?”</p><p>Merlin, fighting a losing battle with the Prince’s bedsheet, straightened up, fiddling nervously with the material. As many times before, he wondered how truthful it was wise to be. It would be so easy for Arthur to replace him and, as Gaius had mentioned, it was very unusual for a noble to maintain a servant who had been held up in bed, injured, for more than a day or two. Servants needing a longer recovery time were generally dismissed and replaced quickly and without a second thought.</p><p>Bearing this in mind, Merlin just dared to give a half-shrug and attempted to smile convincingly. “Just a little bit but I’ll be fine. I couldn’t stand staying in bed any longer anyway.”</p><p>Arthur began to smile with relief that he hadn’t teased his servant about pain that he himself had helped to inflict on the boy.</p><p>“No! I understand that! It wouldn’t be good for you anyway, Merlin. You might get lazy.”</p><p>“More lazy than you already say I am?”</p><p>The Prince grinned even more brightly, seeing that his manservant seemed lively and ready to banter again.</p><p>“Yes. Much more lazy.”</p><p>Both the Prince and his servant then lapsed into a comfortable silence and though neither admitted it, their relationship had just passed the first test. With some more time, they would be easy around each other again and despite all that had happened to Merlin and all that Arthur regretted much more than he would ever confess, the bond of trust that had begun forming seemed to have survived the ordeal.</p><p>Merlin had moved on to collecting stray and dirty pieces of clothing from various surfaces in Arthur’s room, when the Prince sat back with a satisfied sigh. At this, most castle servants would have jumped immediately to clear away the breakfast dishes and it was one of those things Merlin still very much had to learn.</p><p>Or he might never, Arthur thought with amusement. He didn’t actually mind. It meant he could avoid the boring paperwork for just a moment longer. Equally, observing his manservant, the Prince clearly noticed that the boy had learned a great deal since coming to the castle, despite his suffering.</p><p>The Prince’s bed had been made and although Merlin still moved slowly and carefully, the Prince had to admit that he couldn’t fault the work the boy had already completed. After his servant’s absence of six days, his chambers were almost presentable again.</p><p>Arthur’s ruminations were interrupted when Merlin rather unceremoniously and noisily threw his soiled garments into the washing basket. Then, realising the Prince’s gaze on him, Merlin hunched his shoulders slightly, a spark of fear momentarily visible in his eyes.</p><p>“Sorry, Sire, I…I will take care of the clothes right away.”</p><p>Arthur’s brows knit together in a frown.</p><p>“The marks of the physical abuse and neglect will fade soon enough,” Gaius had assured the Prince during one of the first days of Merlin’s recovery when the boy had been deeply asleep with a draught and Arthur had clumsily assisted in redressing his servant’s wounds.</p><p>At that, Arthur had pointedly nodded towards the deep-red gashes on Merlin’s back, “Will they scar?” It made his stomach churn with fury and disgust, made him want to rip and pummel something savagely. Ideally, the person responsible.</p><p>“Probably, Sire. But you must remember that the deepest scars are the invisible ones.”</p><p>As if to bring home his words, Gaius had covered the last of the welts with the white strips of linen. Arthur, however, had looked at the physician in confusion.</p><p>“I mean, Sire, that the emotional abuse Merlin has suffered will need much, much longer to heal than anything physical. Remember, he has been told many times over that his own incompetence was to blame for all that has happened. And he believed it. It will be much harder to help him recover from those injuries than the physical ones.”</p><p>Arthur bit his lip, at a loss how exactly that could be achieved.</p><p>Having pulled Merlin’s nightshirt gently over the boy’s head and torso, the physician laid his ward carefully on his side, resting a hand on his forehead. Then he looked straight into the Prince’s eyes and it had taken all of Arthur’s fortitude not to shrivel under the fierceness of the old man’s gaze.</p><p>“It will be your responsibility, Arthur, to look after my boy. To make sure that his emotional scars can heal with time. Be good to him, Arthur!”</p><p>It was a command and no mistake. The Prince didn’t even rail at the fact that Gaius had addressed him by his first name. Twice.</p><p>I won’t let you down, Merlin, he had silently promised his servant and, more importantly, himself. But how? Was it going to be more conducive to healing emotional scars to banter or should he treat the boy with extra care and sensitivity?</p><p>Arthur had never successfully solved this conundrum and seeing his servant flinch now brought home his terrible responsibility. He could see Merlin’s current emotional rawness stand out more starkly than the injuries he had helped Gaius tend so very often in the last week.</p><p>“It’s alright, Merlin. The clothes can wait another day.”</p><p>Slightly surprised, Merlin stepped away from the washing basket, momentarily at a loss what to do next. Should he wait for the Prince to give him an order or was there something he had forgotten to do? Then his eyes caught the dirty dishes in front of his Prince. Surely, he was supposed to take care of them.</p><p>“I will take these down to the scullery, then?”</p><p>It was more a request for reassurance than a question.</p><p>Arthur’s eyes focused on the breakfast tray as if he had been recalled from very far away.</p><p>“Alright, Merlin. And then…” The Prince hesitated. He knew he had to give the next order but he did not look forward to seeing Merlin’s reaction to it. “Then you will report to the Castle Steward for the remainder of the day.”</p><p>As expected, Merlin flinched violently and an empty goblet he had just picked up from Arthur’s desk dropped with a hollow clanging to the stone floor. However, Merlin’s frightened eyes remained fixed on the Prince.</p><p>“He will begin training you in the arts of serving at a royal court today.”</p><p>There was a heavy beat.</p><p>“Yes, Sire.”</p><p>At that, Merlin stooped to pick up the goblet, looking more tired when he re-emerged from under the table than he had done all morning.</p><p>When his servant was almost out of the door, the Prince called him back, sudden inspiration striking him.</p><p>“Merlin? Remember, he will only train you. You don’t have to be afraid of him. He is not to harm you and will report all that happens to me.”</p><p>Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say as Merlin’s frame deflated further and his voice was even more subdued as he agreed, “Yes, Sire.”</p><p>Arthur mentally kicked himself. He was rubbish at this emotional healing business.</p><p>“If anything happens, you will let me know immediately, Merlin, won’t you? P…please!”</p><p>For heaven’s sake, did he just say please?!</p><p>His manservant, however, responded to this royal slip with a renewed light in his eyes; his posture, although not entirely at ease, straightened up markedly. “Thank you, Arthur.”</p><p>Then Merlin closed the door behind him and Arthur exhaled with both relief and frustration.</p><p>*</p><p>
  <em>If anything happens, you will let me know immediately, Merlin, won’t you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You don’t have to be afraid of him. He is not to harm you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He will only train you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He will report all that happens to me.</em>
</p><p>Merlin steps quickened and faltered in accordance with whichever of the Prince’s words echoed through his head as he first made his way to the scullery and then towards the Steward’s office.</p><p>His heart, the traitor, began beating rapidly as he walked the oh so familiar path of dread and pain. Merlin’s lip began to quiver when his thoughts involuntarily took him back to the morning just after the banquet, when, exhausted and confused with a fever, Merlin had made his way to this part of the castle, expecting to be beaten and then, having found the office crowded with people, had eventually feared for his very life, believing that the King was about to have him taken away to the flogging post. He had begged and pleaded but was finally dragged back to Gaius’ chambers, awaiting the worst.</p><p>“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” Merlin grasped his head in both hands, shaking it from side to side to rid it of the images shredding every ounce of certainty and confidence in his body.</p><p>He tried to recall it then, the sense of elation when the Prince had apologised; of wonder, when he had been promised a new and better start; of safety, when Prince, knight and squires had risen up to defend him.</p><p><em>Hopefully</em>. Clarke’s voice rang loudly in his mind, awakening that quiet little voice from this morning.</p><p><em>You are ready to face him?</em> It asked.</p><p>A sudden sweet and metal taste made Merlin realise that he had bitten his lip bloody and he swiped at it quickly. Raising his arm, he noticed with chagrin that his new tunic was wet with sweat.</p><p>
  <em>Please.</em>
</p><p>It was his Prince’s voice that echoed last when he reached the dreaded door. And Merlin recognised it as more. A Prince who could say please, even inadvertently as he was sure it had been, could truly become the King foretold. And Merlin had been foretold standing at his side. Destinies were strange things, running away like water in a quick brook under darkened trees when one wanted to inspect them further.</p><p>But perhaps, one wasn’t meant to inspect them, Merlin thought. Just to dip in and drink.</p><p>Taking hold of his destiny and the hope the Prince’s last word had kindled in his heart, Merlin straightened up and rapped swiftly against the door.</p><p>Nothing happened.</p><p>Merlin shifted his feet apprehensively, then knocked again. The loud echo of his knocks could be heard reverberating in the room beyond but only silence answered him.</p><p>Merlin’s breathing quickened. What was he to do now? Had the Steward already expected him earlier and had now gone off to do something else, or worse, to seek him out? Was the Steward possibly reporting his tardiness to Arthur even now?</p><p>The boy felt a cold shiver run down his spine and his knees responded with a tremble. He wouldn’t even be able to excuse or defend himself. He knew that he was still moving slower than he was supposed to.</p><p>But I can’t stay here, Merlin reasoned. If I don’t go look for the Steward, I am defying the Prince’s orders and they will call me lazy.</p><p>At that, Merlin decided to first try looking for the man in the kitchen. The place was a veritable thoroughfare within the castle and even if the Master was not to be found there, Merlin was sure to find someone who knew his whereabouts. The Cook herself had a well-deserved reputation for knowing what was going on with everyone in the castle at any time. Even the King wasn’t safe from her keen eyes and prying tongue.</p><p>Determined, Merlin raced back towards the kitchen and stopped short when a near familiar scene met his eyes. There, by the long tables, sat the Cook, the Castle Steward and a few others of higher rank than himself, chatting and possibly still finishing a late breakfast.</p><p>It took the boy back involuntarily to his very first night in Camelot, when he had been caught ‘stealing’ food after the servants’ dinner time. When he had first been introduced to the Steward.</p><p>Well, if this was to be a new start, the parallel might well be intentionally arranged by the one guiding his destiny. But this time, he knew to act differently.</p><p>The group of people had noticed the boy’s entrance and immediately the Castle Steward rose. Merlin couldn’t tell whether his face looked tense or whether he was wearing his normal stern expression. Scolding his knees silently for wobbling as he moved forward, Merlin walked relatively steadily towards the man, stood with his hands clasped in front as a servant should and bowed his head in deference.</p><p>“Good…good morning, Sir.” If only his voice wasn’t so noticeably shaking. “Art…The Prince has ordered me to see you for training today.”</p><p>The Steward’s eyes ranged up and down, seizing up the boy’s appearance and Merlin felt it almost as a physical assessment. He lowered his eyes further but forced himself not to falter under the intense gaze.</p><p>The man cleared his throat while the onlookers regarded the pair with obvious interest. Merlin was sure that, no matter what had passed between the King, Prince and the Steward, this was a moment for the man to assert his power over the boy. The Steward would not want to appear apologetic or weak in front of his fellows.</p><p>“I see,” the man said finally and Merlin noticed with surprise that there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.</p><p>“You have been released by the physician for full duty, then?”</p><p>Merlin nodded, his eyes still cast on the floor. It felt easier this way. “Yes, Sir.”</p><p>“Very well, come along then, we will start in the supply cupboard.”</p><p>At this, the Steward gave a quick farewell to the onlookers and a few chuckles told Merlin that significant glances must have passed between the parties.</p><p>Merlin then followed the Steward on his heels, keeping a straight, submissive expression and avoiding eye contact. Just before exiting the kitchen, the Steward diverted his path to a fireplace and Merlin’s breath hitched, his eyes widening, as he saw the man pick up the familiar cane leaning in a corner.</p><p>The Steward, clearly unaware or indifferent to Merlin’s reaction, continued swiftly out of the room and towards the supply cupboard.</p><p>Although trotting behind him obediently, Merlin felt himself grow weak and stumble more clumsily than he had previously. The cane had awakened his old fears and nightmares again and the Master’s insistence on carrying it with him to where he would train the boy portended a return of previous routines.</p><p>Again, Merlin wondered what he, a servant, could do, if the Master did not abide by the Prince’s promises. Perhaps, he even meant to get revenge on the boy since he had been exposed and humiliated by the King.</p><p>
  <em>You will tell Arthur and Gaius. You are no longer helpless and friendless, Merlin! </em>
</p><p>Merlin tried to relax and hold on to the truth of this. But it would not dispel the tension in his body nor the anxiety in his eyes.</p><p>Just before reaching the supply cupboard, the Steward, with Merlin in tow, came by the armoury. A movement caught Merlin’s attention and he saw the squires Alfred, Ewan and Roran exiting the room, then stopping short as they saw Merlin. All three threw him a genuine smile which Merlin tried to return.</p><p>However, he supposed he might not have been entirely convincing. The Steward also had stopped shortly to bow to the young men and Merlin saw Alfred’s eyes growing wide as the squire noticed the cane. His gaze flicked quickly back to Merlin and just before the boy and the Steward rounded the next corner, Alfred could be seen whispering urgently to his fellow squires and then taking off at a run down another corridor.</p><p>A flutter of hope he couldn’t quite explain started to expand in Merlin’s chest. However, before he could fully focus and understand what had just happened, the Steward had reached the supply cupboard and the boy had to follow him inside.</p><p> Standing awkwardly in the room, Merlin followed the Steward’s movement when the man deposited the cane in a corner of the room. This calmed the boy slightly. At least, he seemed not to be in immediate danger of being beaten.</p><p>The Steward then moved back towards the boy and Merlin’s brows rose with surprise when he saw the man twisting his hands in a gesture of nervousness. This, more than anything else, made the boy lift his head.</p><p>Once again, the Steward cleared his throat.</p><p>“So, Merlin. Now, that you are feeling better, I believe it is high time for you to receive some induction so that you can perform your duties to the best of your ability.”</p><p>At that, the man walked over to the cupboards and shelves lining the walls of the room.</p><p>“I expect by now you are probably familiar with most of the items here, having accompanied the Prince on patrols and other trips. However, just to avoid any future…confusion, I will show and tell you about all of them, how they are used and maintained.”</p><p>Merlin nodded vigorously, determined to show both his willingness and ability to learn quickly.</p><p>As the Master had said, Merlin was familiar with most items so the overview of the room was completed swiftly. The Master then moved on to explain in detail various tools and supplies that needed special handling and care and, to Merlin’s surprise, he knew a fair amount about this as well, having encountered various materials during his life in Ealdor and being, after all, quick-witted and of young and sound mind.</p><p>The Steward, at first formal and short in his explanations, seemed to grow increasingly pleased as he witnessed the boy’s steep learning curve. So, when they had reached the final item of the storage cupboard, the man had grown almost animated, as if teaching Merlin was a joy rather than a chore.</p><p>“Now, you know of course that these tents are only to be used by the nobility?”</p><p>Merlin’s eyes flicked quickly from examining the shelf with numerous tents to the Steward’s face. No word was spoken between them but Merlin was sure that the Steward’s mind was also taken back to the situation when Merlin had been caught by the man “helping himself” to one of the tents and was subsequently cruelly disciplined when the Steward refused to believe that the boy had had no knowledge that servants were not granted access to these.</p><p>In the short, pregnant pause, Merlin sensed rather than knew that the Steward felt guilty about his previous actions. At his next words, his voice became marginally gentler.</p><p>“However, as we speak, I am in the process of arranging an additional storage place for the access of servants so that people requiring food or supplies when accompanying their masters will not have to be in need.”</p><p>Merlin heard the unspoken apology in the man’s words and his lips stretched into a minute and hesitant, yet fully genuine smile. The Steward’s mouth opened slightly as if in surprise, then he gave a small nod in reply. Redemption and forgiveness, it seemed, was possible on both sides after all.</p><p>At this rather seminal moment, Merlin and the Steward jumped synchronously when the door was thrown open and a dishevelled and out-of-breath Prince Arthur barged into the room, followed by the squire Alfred. Both men had obviously just been running.</p><p>Arthur immediately went to Merlin, took him by his shoulder and looked him up and down.</p><p>“Merlin, are you alright? Did he hurt you?”</p><p>Without waiting for a reply, the Prince stepped menacingly towards the Castle Steward, glowering dangerously.</p><p>“I thought my father made it perfectly clear that you were not to beat my manservant without my knowledge?”</p><p>The Steward’s face, at first white with shock, now became red with rage and Merlin feared what an angry Master might do to him after all when he lost his temper.</p><p>Thus, he quickly stepped up to Arthur and said urgently, “No, Arthur, you misunderstand. The Steward hasn’t laid a hand on me. He was explaining the storage cupboard to me, like you requested.”</p><p>The Prince turned back to his servant, looking perplexed. Then he rounded on Alfred, his speech laboured and through gritted teeth, clearly outraged in embarrassment.</p><p>“Alfred! What on earth were you thinking, telling me that Merlin was being beaten by the Steward?”</p><p>Alfred, who had not been born a peasant or servant, held his Prince’s gaze and said apologetically, “Sire, I saw the Steward carry the cane and Merlin following him like a lamb to the slaughter. He looked scared and helpless so I thought I would inform you.” At this, Alfred pointed to the corner where the offending object had been deposited.</p><p>All four men turned towards it. Arthur walked over and picked it up, his fist clenched so tightly on the rod as if he wanted to crush it to dust.</p><p>“Master Steward?” Arthur prompted.</p><p>Now the man seemed to have understood the problem. His face was slowly returning to its normal colour although his tone of voice still betrayed traces of his ire. “I apologise, Sire, if I have caused confusion. I habitually carry this rod with me throughout the day; however, you may be sure that if your servant requires discipline…,” Merlin flinched at this, “I shall inform you of it as we have agreed.”</p><p>Arthur nodded, then caught Merlin’s eye one last time as if to silently ascertain whether his manservant was truly alright. Merlin responded with a slight nod and smile.</p><p>“Very well then. Carry on and I am glad that I can rely on you so fully, Master Steward.”</p><p>As the Prince left the room, the Steward just about managed a small bow. The door clanged shut behind the nobles and Merlin could feel the Steward’s anger at having been embarrassed in front of a servant emanating from him like a physical force.</p><p>Merlin bit his lip in apprehension and dared to cast a glance at the man. However, he only turned around, took a tent bag to pick up where they had been interrupted.</p><p>“You seem to have made friends in high places. Be careful not to develop ambitions beyond your station though. The consequences for a servant with delusions of grandeur can be very dire.”</p><p>It was said as a throwaway comment but Merlin froze for a moment. Was it a threat? A warning? Or well-meant advice?</p><p>The remainder of the morning passed without further incident but their moment of understanding and forgiveness had irretrievably been lost. Although not unkind or impatient, the Steward treated Merlin formally and curtly, leaving the boy in no doubt about his place in the social hierarchy.</p><p>Merlin tried his very best to learn, remember and focus. After the storage cupboard, the Steward took Merlin to the armoury which turned out to be a quick affair as Sir Leon, on Merlin’s first full day as Arthur’s servant, had explained all the weapons, armour and cleaning materials very thoroughly. However, Merlin received some extra insight about the best way to polish swords just before it was time to go to servants’ lunch.</p><p>While they were eating in the kitchen, Merlin sitting far away from the Castle Steward with the lower servantry, still uncomfortably the centre of attention, a guard arrived, shouting loudly above the din for Merlin.</p><p>Mortified, the boy had first sunk low in his bench but since every head had swivelled around to find him, the guard identified him easily, moved towards him and pompously proclaimed that Prince Arthur wished him to recommence his manservant duties an hour before dinner time. Then the guard left, completely unaware that Merlin’s face was blazing and the servants’ chatter picked up as soon as the man had delivered the message.</p><p>Thankfully, the Steward was soon finished with his lunch and took the boy away towards a cupboard reserved entirely for the tools to clean and maintain windows, floors and wooden furniture in the castle.</p><p>“Well, as it seems we do not have the entire day after all for your training, we shall have to hurry through this. Better pay attention!”</p><p>Merlin nodded, then remembered his manners, “Yes, Sir.”</p><p>Perhaps it was the after-lunch tiredness that kicked in or the fact that Merlin had grown increasingly exhausted as physical exercise still caused him a lot of pain and fed on energy resources he had yet to fully build up, but this part of the training was a lot more difficult for the boy.</p><p>There were so many different cloths and brushes, buckets for various specific purposes, tea leaves, cleaning salts, different soaps, vinegar, soda, oils, lime and many other things, all stored away in identical containers. Merlin’s mind was constantly reminded of the array of potions in Gaius’ cupboards; he was sure that even if he lived a hundred years, he’d never know even half of them.</p><p>His attention was slipping. When quizzed by the Master, Merlin could only remember a handful of the uses for all the different brushes and picked the wrong soap when he was asked to gather all elements for effective cleaning of glass windows.</p><p>Merlin supressed a shudder when the Master edgily ripped the incorrect jar from the boy’s hand to replace it with the right one.</p><p>“Let’s go,” the man ordered curtly. His patience and forbearance had clearly reached its limits and although he did not shout at the boy or call him names, his short manner made Merlin wish himself far, far away from this man.</p><p>His final task of the day consisted of cleaning a short row of windows in a guest room, the Master breathing down his neck and inspecting each step critically. Merlin truly tried his best but his arms now hurt, his eyes stung from the aggressive odour of the soap lather and his healing injuries were searing worse than they had for almost a week.</p><p>The Master’s tapping foot kept time with Merlin’s increasingly apprehensive heartbeat. “Hurry up, boy. I haven’t got all day to watch you blunder your way through washing a few windows.”</p><p>Merlin gulped and tried to increase his speed. “Yes, Sir, yes. I’m sorry. Almost finished.”</p><p>Finally, he was done and he stood back, mopping his sweaty brow with his forearms and trying to avoid moving his hands that were red and swollen in reaction to the soap.</p><p>The Master moved from window to window quickly but uttered neither praise nor critique. Merlin could only hear a low, dark rumbling issuing from the man and it was a sound he was all too familiar with as well as the painful consequences it usually foretold.</p><p>However, when the man turned back around, he only indicated for Merlin to pick up the bucket and follow him.</p><p>The bucket was heavy, Merlin’s gait slurred and tired and his hands painful and weak. Retrospectively, he thought that it had not been surprising. Going down a flight of steps, the boy stumbled slightly yet caught himself just in time. The bucket, however, upended in a graceful arch over the Steward, drenching the man like a duck in a sudden rain shower, before rolling swiftly down the stairwell, hopping a little on each step.</p><p>The boy stood frozen, mortified and shocked. The Steward mirrored his stance for a moment. Then his eyes found the boy and Merlin winced at the wild rage within them. The Steward’s hands reached up momentarily as if to throttle the boy, then he dropped them, turned around and stomped away, Merlin following miserably behind him.</p><p>They did not stop but for a short, barked command at a passing serving girl to, “Clean up this mess!” Merlin thought wretchedly about what the Steward would report to Arthur today. Naturally, the Prince would have to sanction a punishment for this. A sigh escaped the boy as they finally reached and entered the Steward’s office. So much for new beginnings.</p><p>He stood with hunched shoulders, waiting for the Master to change into new clothes, waiting to receive his sentence. He frowned angrily at himself as two tears slipped from his eyes. He had so wanted to be done with crying and fretting. He had tried so hard and yet failed again.</p><p>The Steward had disappeared through an adjacent door that led to his personal chambers. Merlin had never taken much notice of it before as he had usually been too…preoccupied whenever he had been in the Steward’s office in the past.</p><p>When the door finally opened, Merlin cast his eyes resignedly to the floor.</p><p>“Well, Merlin, it seems you have lost none of your old charm.”</p><p>The man’s voice sounded slightly calmer and the boy felt a slither of hope when he had been addressed by name.</p><p>Looking up with caution, Merlin said almost inaudibly, “I’m very sorry, Sir. I really was trying very hard. I’m just very tire…” Merlin closed his mouth, remembering the Steward’s usual irate reaction to excuses.</p><p>“How is your back?” The man asked, surprising Merlin somewhat.</p><p>“Fine, Sir. It’s…Gaius says I’m healing well.”</p><p>“You are swaying on the spot, Merlin.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Merlin tried to find a steady stance but his limbs trembled with the effort and the Steward had clearly noticed.</p><p>“From now on, I believe, we will limit training sessions to the morning until you have built up your strength further.”</p><p>Merlin was almost dumbstruck with the unexpected consideration of the man. “Thank you, Sir.”</p><p>“Now.” the Steward moved towards the boy and tilted up his face. Merlin tried not to flinch away. “About what happened just now, I will this once forego to report your…mishap to Prince Arthur. Nevertheless, I do believe I still owe you this.”</p><p>With those words, the Steward returned to the door to his chambers and entered, leaving it open. The boy followed the man’s progress curiously but instantly cold dread and sudden panic caused him to nearly stumble then fly to the door, fingering desperately for the latch.</p><p>“Wait, Merlin!” The Steward’s command may have arrested the boy but when he turned around, his chest was heaving, his eyes were wide and his back was pressed flat against the door as if he meant to pass through it magically without opening it.</p><p>Merlin, having been able to see inside the Steward’s rooms, had immediately noticed a large table and, coiled upon it as if it had been lying in wait for him, the Steward’s leather belt. The man’s steps had been directed so surely towards this, his hand reaching out to take it up as many times before, that the boy had been sure that the Steward meant Merlin to pay for his silence to the Prince with another brutal beating.</p><p>His lacerations hardly healed, the memory of the excruciating agony still gruesomely vivid in his mind, Merlin reacted instinctively with an attempt to flee, to tell Arthur, to tell Gaius.</p><p>But he did not dare to disobey the Steward’s command and now stood shuddering and quaking against the door. The man moved towards him swiftly and Merlin’s heart stuttered when he reached out a hand to lay hold of the boy’s shoulder.</p><p>"No, no, please. Oh God, please no," Merlin choked, his voice hoarse with terror.</p><p>Merlin made to recoil but suddenly noticed the gentleness of the hand. It hadn’t grabbed him, didn’t drag him forwards towards the wall. It was a comforting, calming hand, laid on his shoulder to reassure not to injure.</p><p>Merlin dared to look up into the Master’s face and exhaled slowly. There was concern there but all fury or impatience seemed to have dissipated, the last possibly with Merlin’s desperate and pitiable reaction.</p><p>“Merlin? What are you doing? I am not going to harm you! I promised the King and the apology…I meant it.” The Steward’s voice was so very different now, so human.</p><p>Merlin regarded the man with a bewildered expression.</p><p>
  <em>Apology? What apology?</em>
</p><p>“Don’t you remember? When you came and…interrupted our meeting, the day after the banquet. I suppose perhaps you do not remember…you had such a high fever and were so abjectly afraid…” The man’s voice tapered off, clearly uncertain how to proceed now that he realised that the boy could not recall his words from that day.</p><p>Merlin, however, frowned, thinking hard. There was something his memories had brought to the surface of his consciousness a few times. But it had been so unbelievable, Merlin had dismissed it as untrue. The Stewart’s words now, on the other hand…it must have been real!</p><p>“Sir, I remember.” There was a long silence between them. “Thank you.”</p><p>Once again, the tiniest smile passed between them and the Master nodded encouragingly. Then he raised the hand not holding Merlin’s shoulder.</p><p>“I only went to my room to retrieve and give you this.”</p><p>A large and heavy leather pouch, clearly filled with coins, was pressed into Merlin’s hand.</p><p>“The compensation I owe you for…everything. 500 silver coins.”</p><p>At this the man stepped back so Merlin could open the bag to ascertain the truth of his words.</p><p>Once again, Merlin was overwhelmed by the riches he so suddenly possessed. And the token of a better future this money represented.</p><p>“Thank you, Sir,” Merlin repeated, unable to put into words what he was feeling. Clearly, the Steward was equally struggling with his eloquence.</p><p>“Well then…run along now, Merlin. Maybe you should grab a plentiful dinner and some rest before you have to be in Prince Arthur’s chambers as you will miss the servants’ mealtime attending him.”</p><p>Merlin’s smile widened; he nodded, “Good evening, Sir,” and he ran from the room. Redemption was possible and reparations had been made. Nevertheless, he was still uncomfortable being in this man’s presence longer than he needed to be.</p><p><em>There is still a long way to go, both in sorting out your incompetence and in repairing matters with the Steward</em>, Merlin’s little voice commented cheekily.</p><p>Oh, shut up now, Merlin returned wisely. The boy’s earlier fear dispelled, it vacated the space to make room for a healthy appetite and an even healthier need for some peace and quiet to do some more thinking and digesting. Healing emotionally, it seemed, would require quite a bit more time and effort.</p><p>Not wishing to attract further notice or unnecessarily rile the servantry of the castle, Merlin first diverted his path towards his room to quickly deposit the pouch the Steward had given to him under the loose floorboard where the remainder of his wealth and some other treasures were hidden away. The latter, of course, were highly illegal and no amount of the former would suffice to save Merlin were those other damning items ever discovered.</p><p>Another reason why I really need to find a better place to store the money, Merlin thought as he tiredly and mindlessly crossed the floor of Gaius’ chambers.</p><p>However, before his already extended hand could lift the latch, the boy froze.</p><p>Someone was in his room and, by the sounds of it, searching his belongings.</p><p>
  <em>A thief?</em>
</p><p>Merlin’s outstretched hand shivered slightly before he uncurled his fingers, palm lifted up. He wasn’t armed but he would not stand defenceless against an intruder. If need be, he had to take out the person inside with his magic. Ideally discreetly.</p><p>Taking a silent breath, Merlin’s other hand pushed open the door with a sudden movement, the boy running inside only to find himself face to face with a startled Clarke.</p><p>Both boys stared at each other for a moment, blanching in mutual shock. Then Clarke’s lips stretched into a smile.</p><p>“Merlin! You’re…off duty early. I thought you’d be with the Steward for at least another hour or at least until dinner or maybe you’d have to serve the Prince and…What’s wrong?”</p><p>During Clarke’s breathless speech, Merlin’s expression had grown markedly darker, showing signs both of fear and suspicion.</p><p>It had been done so subtly and the young guardsman had clearly tried to distract Merlin with his ramblings but the other had noticed the swift hook of the elbow to close the half-opened door of the wardrobe and the almost imperceptible kick of the foot as one of Merlin’s shirts was hidden out of sight in a corner.</p><p>It wouldn’t have been unusual for Merlin to have a shirt or a lone sock lying sadly abandoned in some corner of the room. Only, having been confined in his room for so long, Merlin had actually tried to relieve his boredom by cleaning and tidying it. This morning, his room had been spotless and all of his clothes had lain neatly folded inside the wardrobe.</p><p>Clarke seemed to have realised that Merlin had noticed his actions. “You know, you really should tidy your room more often.” A short and clearly forced laugh. “You never know when you will have unexpected visitors.”</p><p>Merlin nodded absently and Clarke’s eyes also darkened. Almost petulantly, he then added, “There is no need to look so sullen, Merlin. I only came by to see whether you have time to go for dinner now since I have to be on duty during the normal mealtime.”</p><p>Something was clearly wrong. Merlin could sense it. But he hadn’t wanted to hurt his friend. Clarke had seen him, had been good to him when no one else had.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Clarke. The Steward has trained me and had me working all day since I left Arthur’s chambers this morning. I’m just really exhausted.” To emphasise this, Merlin dropped on his bed, making sure his long legs covered the floorboard under which were hidden his treasures. Naturally, Clarke wouldn’t know that the floorboard could be moved but it made Merlin feel a little safer.</p><p>His friend sat down next to him and laid an arm across his shoulders in a sign of friendship. “No, Merlin, I’m sorry. You’re not all well yet and I startled you. Are you angry at me for going into your room without you being there?”</p><p>
  <em>Not angry. Just scared for my life.</em>
</p><p>“No, of course not. Like I said, I’m simply tired…and I’ll have to be at Arthur’s again really soon. But…but we can have dinner first, if you have the time?”</p><p>Strangely, Clarke seemed a little taken aback, then embarrassed. “Erm…er…sure. Let me just quickly jump back to the dungeons for one second. Gotta report…something to the Captain. Meet you in the kitchen in five minutes?”</p><p>Without waiting for an answer, the young guard bounded out of Merlin’s room and was gone before Merlin’s brows had settled back into a worried frown.</p><p>Hadn’t his friend just told him that he had come to fetch Merlin for dinner? Why go back to the dungeons now? What did he have to report to the Captain? And hadn’t he said earlier that he didn’t expect Merlin back from his chores so early? That seemed like a contradiction too.</p><p>Merlin’s heartbeat began to quicken and a cold sweat broke out all over his body. With clammy hands and nervous eyes, he quickly opened his wardrobe, then checked the drawers in his bedside table. He twisted his head and took in all corners of the room.</p><p>Yes, the evidence was clear. Clarke had searched his room for something and Merlin had interrupted him before he had had the time to erase the traces.</p><p>Too quick to avoid a painful wince, Merlin knelt down and checked the items under the floorboard. A small sigh of relief escaped him. At least, Clarke had not found his hiding place in there.</p><p>But this was worrying nevertheless. There were only a few reasons that came to his mind why a guard, even if a friend, would rifle through a room. None of them were good. Most of them would, if any suspected crime was confirmed during the raid, get him flogged or even killed, at the very least jailed.</p><p>And no matter what Clarke or, Merlin realised, more likely the Captain, suspected him of, if the more illegal items under the floorboard were discovered, it was the pyre. At best the noose or the axe if the king felt merciful.</p><p>Merlin suddenly realised that his teeth were chattering and he picked up his threadbare blanket from his bed and wrapped it around himself, trying to fight the chill that was gnawing on his insides.</p><p>Had someone seen him?</p><p>Merlin racked his brain. It couldn’t have been during the last few days; he had been in bed. And obviously he hadn’t used magic today.</p><p>Maybe it was when he had spelled the water buckets for the Prince’s bath to be considerably less weighty, the evening before the fated banquet? Had someone noticed that he had walked with an easier step?</p><p>But no! That was impossible. Merlin had been so exhausted and injured that his step would never have been called easy, even if the buckets had been light as feathers.</p><p>Maybe it had been the new squire Roran? It was, after all, possible that as an outsider, he had had more experiences with magic and was less oblivious than most in Camelot. Maybe he had put two and two together, maybe he had seen Merlin fighting the bandits with magic. And now, having sworn his oath to Camelot, he had turned him in.</p><p>No, no, no. That was wrong too. Had a noble squire accused him, Merlin knew he would already be bound and gagged, shackled in some damp prison to await his execution.</p><p>It could only have been when…Of course!</p><p>“The sword!” Merlin exclaimed with a wail of desperation. Someone must have observed him that evening in the forest. Possibly someone from outside Camelot that had only now had the time or courage to report his findings to the guards.</p><p>It had been nearly dark and the clouds and intermittent rain had made Merlin reckless. He had stood on the riverbank that had been the squire’s downfall, literally, and cast a spell that made the lost sword light up golden in the seething waters.</p><p>It had been quite a beautiful sight although that had been of little comfort when Merlin had to yet again plunge into the icy water to dive for the lost weapon among the mud and rushes of the river’s edge.</p><p>Now, this beautiful sight might cost him his life.</p><p>Bonelessly, Merlin hunched over and hid his face in his hands. If only he could confront Clarke about this directly. But he knew that it wasn’t possible. Friend or no, Clarke would be required to deliver him to the King or he would be condemned alongside the sorcerer.</p><p>Merlin sat up sharply as a dry sob threatened to make his eyes spill over once again. He wiped the wetness from his eyes. Then he mechanically lifted the floorboard, dropped the Steward’s silver inside and closed off the hiding place once again before silently trudging out of the door.</p><p>There was nothing he could do now. If someone knew, they would arrest him. If someone suspected and found evidence, they would arrest him. If they didn’t, he could probably fool them yet again by maintaining his show of guileless innocence.</p><p>Only, it wasn’t a show. Because he was, wasn’t he? Innocent. It wasn’t his fault he had been born with magic or that he had to use it or he would grow sick and die. Or cause his magic to boil over like a pot left too long over a hot fire. It was King Uther Pendragon that had declared all magic users criminals. That didn’t mean it was the truth.</p><p>A sense of stubborn obstinacy made Merlin’s back straighten and his steps fall more firmly as he directed his path once more towards the kitchen for dinner. He wouldn’t accept Uther’s rhetoric, no matter whether the King made it law or not. He was innocent until he committed a crime, a real one, with or without magic.</p><p>But disassociating himself from Uther’s rhetoric didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be arrested and killed for possessing magic.</p><p>
  <em>Well, until then, the best thing I can do is make sure I get back my strength and eat well. Or I won’t be able to fight off my pursuers and protect Gaius at the same time.</em>
</p><p>In this spirit, Merlin entered the kitchen, once again almost silencing the room as heads instantly swivelled towards him. However, since it was not yet servants’ mealtime, most people were still too busy with their tasks to linger or gossip extensively and Merlin was determined not to allow any of their looks or words to bother him anymore. He walked over steadily to the large pot and helped himself to a generous portion – the Steward himself had ordered him to, after all. Then he spotted Clarke and dropped into a seat opposite him.</p><p>His friend smiled at him, their earlier awkward interchange clearly forgotten and not betraying anything more about his mission in Merlin’s room.</p><p>“Are you alright, Merlin?”</p><p>This time, it was Clarke who had to wait for an answer as the other boy had to chew and swallow the spoonful of food he had hurriedly shovelled into his mouth.</p><p>“Yes, why?”</p><p>“Don’t know. You look a little…defiant.” Clarke suddenly sat up straighter, his voice lowering and his eyes narrowing.</p><p>“Did someone…did anyone do something to you, Merlin? You know you can tell me.”</p><p>In truth, Merlin wasn’t quite so sure of that anymore. But he didn’t want Clarke to know that, had to keep up his normal façade. So, the boy schooled his features to soften and he exhaled.</p><p>“No, it’s fine, Clarke. Nothing happened. I…I just don’t like them looking at me. Still.”</p><p>“They’ll keep looking at you for a while yet, I suppose,” Clarke laughed, clearly relieved that Merlin was unhurt.</p><p>The remainder of the meal passed amicably and Merlin found it quite easy to forget that Clarke had searched his room only twenty minutes before. For now, at least, they were friends and the other boy’s support and jokes warmed Merlin’s heart as they ever had.</p><p>Soon, the boys had to go their separate ways again, as Clarke went to his post in one of the towers of the castle and Merlin walked to Arthur’s room.</p><p>It was a pleasant day and the Prince was yet absent. Merlin threw open the windows to allow the fresh evening air to flood the royal chambers while he, once again, began to straighten up the remainder of the place.</p><p>It only took about ten minutes before Merlin’s earlier exhaustion and aches returned and the boy held onto the mantelpiece of the fireplace as a sudden dizziness caught him by surprise. He had carried a few heavy logs of wood from the antechamber and stacked them in the fireplace. Merlin swayed slightly at the thought of having to crouch down to painstakingly persuade the wood to burn.</p><p>Without thinking much about it, Merlin whispered a short word in the Old Tongue and a fire leapt into being, spreading a sudden, comforting warmth unnaturally quickly through the chambers. If only the Prince wouldn’t order a bath this evening!</p><p>“Merlin?”</p><p>The boy nearly tumbled backwards into the flames as he turned around abruptly, his feet and sore back unable to keep up with the sudden movement at the Prince’s voice.</p><p>Thankfully, Merlin had the presence of mind to fall forward, grasping the top of Arthur’s favourite chair only to have it fall half on top of him as the boy landed on the floor.</p><p>Sheepishly and with some new and well-deserved bruises sure to form on his skin, the servant looked up from his place at the Prince’s feet.</p><p>Arthur’s eyebrows had disappeared under his fringe and his mouth hung open in an expression of mingled amusement and exasperation.</p><p>“Sorry. You startled me.” Merlin made to peel himself off the flagstones and was surprised when the Prince’s hands grabbed him under his arms to help him up.</p><p>Standing upright once again, Merlin stared into his Master’s face uncertainly. Had Arthur seen him light that fire? Hadn’t he literally feared that his magic had been discovered only an hour ago? Couldn’t he play it safe for once?</p><p>But Arthur only shook his head and while his mouth contorted oddly in an ill-concealed attempt to not laugh, his eyes crinkled at the corners.</p><p>“You know, Merlin, it is good to have you back being your own clumsy self. But like I said this morning, you don’t have to stand in petrified worship before me.”</p><p>The Prince righted his chair and sat himself down by the fire.</p><p>“Nor do you have to fall down on your face before me or throw yourself into the flames for me.”</p><p>Wincing slightly at the last comment, Merlin quickly turned away from the Prince and poured him a goblet of wine, knowing he liked a drink to relax after a long day on patrol or training or doing other…princely things.</p><p>While turned away, Merlin blinked his eyes slowly in relief. The Prince hadn’t seen.</p><p>Handing Arthur the goblet, Merlin then made to pull off the Prince’s muddy boots. “No, I think you’re mistaken, Sire. I wouldn’t call my reactions to you this morning and just now acts of veneration. Rather…,” Merlin pretended to think very hard, “reactions to something rather shocking. And unpleasant to look at.”</p><p>“Are you calling me ugly, Merlin?”</p><p>“No, Sire, I wouldn’t ever dare do such a thing.”</p><p>Arthur shot him an incredulous look.</p><p>“It’s those dirty boots of yours that make me want to throw in the towel.”</p><p>Arthur huffed. “You mean use it on my boots! Get on with it, Merlin. Also, I wasn’t wearing muddy boots this morning, so what was your excuse then?”</p><p>Merlin deliberated while he fetched the boot cleaning kit. He was uncomfortably aware that Arthur, although bantering with him, was watching his back in concern as Merlin hobbled noticeably and slowly from one end of the room to the other.</p><p>He had deliberately returned the Prince’s jokes. Arthur needed to know that he was fine. He needed Arthur to be less watchful, less observant. Or the Prince really would see something one day.</p><p>“I suspect it was just your natural radiance, Sire.”</p><p>Arthur laughed and Merlin smiled at the fact that what he had said hadn’t even been a joke. It had been quite true.</p><p>As Arthur calmly sipped his wine, Merlin closed the windows and cleared the table to serve Arthur his dinner.</p><p>“It’s alright, Merlin. I will eat with my father today. Don’t worry,” the Prince added quickly, “you won’t have to serve at the table today. I think we’ve had enough pitcher-accidents for a while, don’t you?”</p><p>Merlin only gave a small whimper in reply and the Prince suddenly sat up straight, realising that the night he had been referring to was not one the boy was likely to want to remember.</p><p>Darn this emotional healing business!</p><p>“Merlin, I…Sit down.”</p><p>Merlin looked taken aback, but then obediently sat opposite the Prince, hoping that the King wouldn’t suddenly enter the room.</p><p>Arthur’s quick glance to the door betrayed that his thoughts had been running along the same lines and Merlin was struck once again by how similar they really were. Boys, young men, almost the same age, liking to banter, liking good food, likely to get into trouble and hoping not to be caught doing it. Sitting opposite the Prince and looking at him frankly like this almost made Merlin feel like he could be his Prince’s equal. Maybe something like a friend. He was foretold to stand at Arthur’s side, after all.</p><p>Well, it couldn’t happen of course. No servant could be equals with a Prince, a King. Merlin looked down instinctively, re-establishing their social difference.</p><p>“How was the rest of the training with the Steward?”</p><p>Merlin hesitated a little too long.</p><p>“What happened, Merlin?”</p><p>Well, maybe not an equal but maybe yet a friend - one day. And friendship needed honesty. “I…I managed to tip a bucket of dirty water over the Master’s head.”</p><p>As Merlin’s story unfolded, Arthur’s face lengthened in disbelief and incredulity. Finally, Merlin felt the need to intervene.</p><p>“Sire, please, I fear for your jaw! I really don’t want Gaius to bear down on me for you dislocating your mandibles. And there’s still that fly around here somewhere I told you about. You might think it’s gone but I think it’s hiding away, waiting for the right moment, you know. And I wouldn’t want you to spoil your appetite.”</p><p>Once again, Merlin narrowly avoided the empty goblet launched at his head but the boy rather suspected that the Prince, this time at least, had missed him on purpose.</p><p>The Prince got up and Merlin with him.</p><p>“Well, I certainly agree with the Steward. Let’s keep training to just the mornings from now on. And then come to me and tell me everything, especially whether or not you’re strong enough to keep working for me in the afternoon.”</p><p>Casually, as if his words were no more than a mere comment, the Prince moved behind the changing screen, his jacket and white shirt soon appearing clumsily draped over the top of the frame.</p><p>Merlin looked down and was once again amazed by how much had changed for him in so short a time, how different things were from a week ago.</p><p>“Thank you, Sire.” This time his tone was far from mocking.</p><p>“A new shirt and jacket, Merlin.” It was a command but Arthur tone betrayed emotion behind it that had nothing to do with the Prince’s apparel.</p><p>Merlin walked over to the elaborately carved wardrobe and withdrew a red shirt and strikingly blue and regal velvet jacket. He laid them also on top of the screen and they were pulled inside soon afterwards.</p><p>“And Arthur…”</p><p>The Prince’s head poked out rather comically from behind the screen.</p><p>“Thank you for…for checking on me today when Alfred came to you.”</p><p>
  <em>It made me feel safe. </em>
</p><p>But of course he couldn’t say that. God forbid. The Prince would not know left from right in his awkwardness if Merlin used the f-word. And, to be fair, neither would Merlin.</p><p>Instead, the servant grinned at his Prince who pouted in another attempt to hide his desire to grin right back.</p><p>When the Prince was dressed for dinner, he only ordered Merlin to make sure his room was warm and his bed turned down when he returned. But he didn’t have to wait for the Prince but should go get some rest himself.</p><p>“Oh, and ask a servant to prepare me a bath as well.”</p><p>Because Arthur clearly wanted Merlin to be spared this chore for now.</p><p>And Merlin was thankful as he could hardly keep his eyes open long enough until he could fall into bed. Before sleep overpowered him, two last niggling thoughts surfaced in his mind.</p><p>
  <em>Does Clarke suspect I have magic?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Do I really need to do Arthur’s laundry tomorrow?</em>
</p><p>And sleep claimed the serving boy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you enjoy reading this. I certainly loved writing it even though some parts were really difficult. (Poor Merlin!)</p><p>I LOVE comments so, pretty please (and I am not above begging :D) leave one and tell me what you think.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Part 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It came as somewhat of a surprise that the next few days passed without incident, Merlin feeling stronger and more confident with each day. Only training with the Steward in the morning surely helped to keep the man’s temper and impatience in check and Merlin, as the Prince and Sir Leon had assured, turned out to be anything but dull. He soon knew his way around all the various tasks a castle servant might encounter.</p><p>Being a quick learner, the Steward even instructed him in some additional duties that he, as Prince Arthur’s manservant, would also likely be having to fulfil: how to serve properly at a private dinner or at a state dinner, how to clean various expensive fabrics the royals were used to wearing without ruining them, how to polish gold or silver jewellery, how to repair dents or minor damages in armour or weapons.</p><p>Naturally, Merlin was still Merlin. His clumsiness caused many a near-accident and the peasant boy, now easier if not yet entirely comfortable around the Steward, often found it hard to stop his tongue from saying whatever came into his head.</p><p>However, whereas before, the Steward would immediately have disciplined him, assuming that the boy was trying to lie or to avoid work, the chance to spend more time with the servant had taught the Steward not to judge him too quickly. Merlin was a bit of a fool, but he was honest and kind-hearted and willing. The Steward watched the boy frown as he would try to beat a dent out of a piece of armour as if his life depended on it, and he suddenly saw the dedication and loyalty he had not known country folk could possess.</p><p>Now, he couldn’t imagine how it had not been obvious to him before.</p><p>Merlin was trying his best and he was, overall, a sweet and compliant boy, if rather accident-prone and more indiscriminately chatty then the Steward thought proper for a servant of his station.</p><p>But then the Prince seemed to rather enjoy the boy’s quipping, even seemed to encourage it.</p><p>After almost a week of morning lessons – afternoons, as per agreement, were spent with Arthur – the Steward declared that Merlin had learned everything from him that he could.</p><p>Merlin’s eyes lit up at this. “Really? That was fast…I mean,” the servant quickly bowed his head, remembering his place, “thank you for teaching me so well, Master Steward. I have really learned a great deal.”</p><p>They were in the Steward’s office and the man had only just sat down behind his desk after depositing his cane in a corner. Its constant presence still made Merlin shudder but he had understood that the man did not carry it to make use of it on Merlin’s back, at least not without first consulting the Prince. The Master was now shuffling some papers, as if looking for something. Finally, he seemed to have found it but flattened it distractedly on the wooden surface before looking up again at Merlin.</p><p>“You were easy to teach, Merlin. I am sure you will, with some more practice and the dedication you already show, make a fine manservant.”</p><p>“Thank you, Sir.” Merlin gave a bow and blushed slightly at the unexpected praise.</p><p>“However,” here the Master picked up the paper again, “since you have many duties in other areas of the castle as well, I have drawn up a schedule of training sessions with some other masters for you to follow over the next few days.”</p><p>The man pushed the paper towards Merlin and the boy glanced at it with slight apprehension. Although his relationship with the Castle Steward was well on the mend, the same could not be said about any of the other masters who used to abuse him.</p><p>With a frown starting on his face and a feeling of dread slowly uncurling somewhere in his bowels, Merlin observed that he was scheduled to have morning sessions with the Master of the Hunt, the Master of the Royal Gardens and, finally, also the Stablemaster.</p><p>Merlin swallowed. These men had obviously been made aware of what had been agreed upon between the King’s party and the Steward that morning after the banquet. But they themselves had not been there. How would they feel about the changes that Merlin had, although inadvertently, caused to happen? More importantly, would they take it out on Merlin when no one could see or obey the Prince’s orders?</p><p>The Steward had regarded the boy’s frown pensively. It was clear to him that Merlin was afraid and it wasn’t hard to guess why. Once again, the Steward was struck by the fact that he now found it so easy to step into the shoes of this serving boy and empathise with his situation. Not even two weeks ago, the man would have never considered that deeper thinking processes or emotions beyond deceit and laziness coursed through Merlin’s peasant brain. What on earth had changed? Surely, the change couldn’t be attributed to the boy himself?</p><p>No, it had to be these training sessions – good riddance! As a Castle Steward he did really have enough on his plate without them.</p><p>Deep down in the silence of his heart, the Castle Steward might have been able to acknowledge that he would miss instructing the boy. That he had come to care for him and his loyalty and commitment and cheerful nature. But this confession was buried so, so deep, no changed laws about mealtimes, punishments or renumeration had the power to unearth them into the Steward’s conscious mind. Never.</p><p>“Well, Merlin, do you understand the schedule?”</p><p>The boy nodded, still distracted by his thoughts. Then he hastily looked up and muttered, “Yes, Sir.”</p><p>Now he’s got some manners at least, the Steward remarked to himself.</p><p>“Right then, Merlin. You can go and keep this paper. Make sure you show the same commitment to training with the other masters as well. Remember, they also will report directly to the Prince.”</p><p>Merlin bowed, took up the paper and left, wondering what the next days would bring. So far, Arthur had not told him of any reports made by the Steward although Merlin knew that the man had gone to see the Prince. Perhaps the reports hadn’t been bad enough to either force Arthur to allow corrective measures to be taken or to tease Merlin about them.</p><p>No punishments had been meted out and Merlin’s step towards Gaius’ chamber skipped minutely as the boy revelled in the fact that he hadn’t been beaten for ten entire days. His injuries had almost all disappeared and were painless by now.</p><p>When Merlin energetically opened the door to Gaius’ chambers, he stopped short.</p><p>The old physician sat hunched over his table, reading what appeared to be a letter. Merlin couldn’t say exactly what had startled him. Gaius didn’t look sick but there was a tightness around his mouth and his eyebrows knit in an odd expression.</p><p>Had Gaius received bad news? Was it maybe the report of a new sickness?</p><p>“Gaius?” Merlin asked gently, aware that the man had not noticed him entering the room.</p><p>As Gaius looked up, it was suddenly clear to Merlin what he was seeing: guilt and shame were written across Gaius’ forehead as if someone had painted it in large, scarlet letters. The turn of his mouth gave Gaius a peculiar look of having just been admonished or scolded for something that he had done.</p><p>“Gaius, what’s wrong?” Merlin sat down next to his guardian and laid a hand on the older man’s shoulder. And then he saw what Gaius was reading and it all made sense.</p><p>Merlin jumped up, both irritated and worried, “You wrote to my mother? Gaius…!”</p><p>He had wanted to avoid that, had not wanted to tell any details to his mother as he knew she would cry and fret and worry. In fact, he seemed to distinctly remember telling Gaius NOT to let his mother know anything. Merlin suddenly felt rather content that his mother had obviously reproached the old physician in her letter. If someone insisted on getting his mother involved in something like this, they deserved what followed after, Merlin thought with petulance and less merciful feelings than was usual for him.</p><p>“Merlin, I’m sorry. I know you begged me not to but it was my duty to your mother to let her know what happened. She is your closest family after all. And I wanted you to have the option to…”</p><p>Merlin tilted his head and regarded the man quizzically.</p><p>“Well, you’ll see. But if it is any consolation to you, I now feel well and truly reprimanded.”</p><p>Merlin pursed his lips in an obvious, unspoken ‘I told you so’. Then his eyes suddenly began to run over the desk, slightly wider and a little worried.</p><p>“Was that letter you got…did she…were there any more?”</p><p>Here, Gaius chuckled and pulled out another folded paper from his pocket. It was tied with simple string but nevertheless adorned by a small bow. “Of course, Merlin. Of course, she sent you one as well. Rather heavier than mine, too, I should say.”</p><p>Merlin felt a little guilty for having thought that Gaius deserved his mother’s scolding for having written to her against his wishes. However, he would apologise to the physician later.</p><p>Without another word, Merlin snatched the letter eagerly, then ran into his room, bolting the door. He sat on his bed, slowly unfolding the precious message. Of course, she had written to him. Merlin’s fingers ran over the marks made by the quill. Even, beautiful marks like his mother herself. This is where her hand had also touched the paper! Merlin felt a familiar burning sensation behind his eyes. That was why he had fled to his room to read the missive.</p><p>Perusing it was wonderful and difficult and exhilarating and heart-breaking. All of it at once. No longer as occupied as he had been previously with angry masters and impossible chores, Merlin was hit by such an acute bout of homesickness that its impact almost felt like a physical blow by the leather belt. Only, the pain didn’t dim after the first read. Or the second. Or the third or the fourth. Soon, the parchment was littered with the evidence of Merlin’s tears, joining those of his mother that had previously smudged various letters of the epistle.</p><p>In their longing for each other, the tears of mother and son united in this written piece of a mother’s heart, love manifested on paper.</p><p>
  <em>Merlin, my dear boy,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I cannot even begin to tell you how sorry I am for what happened to you. And I blame myself for ever sending you to Camelot. All I was worried about when you were here was Will spilling your secret, even if only by accident, or someone else finding out another way. Now, my fears have caused you to suffer so much. If only I could take all your memories and wounds to be mine and you to be unhurt and safe. My son, I have never felt so helpless but I know it is nothing compared to how you must have felt. Why did you not tell Gaius? Merlin, do you find that you can trust him? Is he good to you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I remember him as a kind, elderly man, gifted in many different areas but also wise and shrewd and generous. But Merlin, even though I am your mother, my judgement is not always the best. If he does not treat you well or if you find you cannot trust him, you have my permission to leave. In fact, I urge you to do so. No one has the right to abuse you or harm you like they have done. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>When I sent you off to Camelot, I thought I did the right thing for you; I thought that you would learn to use your gifts well and wisely and Gaius would be able to keep you safe long enough for you to return to us. Naturally, I was still worried about you being found out and having to bear the consequences. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I never thought that I had sent you into a situation where you would be hurt, starved and abused. Oh, my dear son, please will you forgive me? I cannot stop thinking about what has been done to you and my heart is breaking. How I wish I could cradle you in my arms now. I would stroke your hair and sing to you. Do you remember, my Merlin? Please, hold on just a little longer until you are healed. Remember me holding you so that although I cannot physically be with you, the memory may still bring you some comfort until we are together again.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Come home, Merlin. We will be safe together as we always were and Will misses you terribly. He has been such a great support around the house and we often have dinner together now that we are both alone. When you come, we can be a family again and no one here will touch you or beat you, Merlin. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I know, you said you would earn money and send it but we have survived all these years and I could never ask you to remain in Camelot only for a few extra coins. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And don’t you dare tell yourself that you deserved it and that it was your fault. I raised you, my boy. I know your good heart and sweet spirit. You did not deserve whatever these masters or the Prince or anyone else has done to you, threatened you with or withheld from you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Come home as soon as you feel better and well. Remember, be respectful and stay invisible as much as possible but don’t allow them to trample on you either. No one may order you to stay if you decide to leave. You are not their slave, Merlin, although they have treated you like one.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I know you may not have the means to send a letter back to me. I was very fortunate that the tinker came by bringing Gaius’ letter and that he passed through Ealdor again on his way back into Camelot only a few days afterwards so that I could send these replies. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>My heart aches to once again see you alive and well and to hold you close. You will be safe here with people who love you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I miss you, my dear boy. My Merlin, come home soon and I will help you forget what has happened to you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mother</em>
</p><p>After reading it for one final time, Merlin swallowed repeatedly to stem his tears and control his breathing.</p><p>Clutching the letter tightly to his chest, he climbed up on the rickety, wooden stool and opened the window to the sunshine and busyness outside. This calmed him.</p><p>Merlin remembered the first night in Camelot when he had stood gazing in fascination out of this window. It had all seemed so sparkling and beautiful and magical to him, a land of promise and future where good things would happen to him.</p><p>Of course, even then, before his ordeal of the next three weeks, Merlin had known he was romanticising Camelot, that the place the view from his window seemed to promise him didn’t exist. He had that very morning witnessed a man losing his head for possessing magic. But those twinkling lights; the mild, purple night air and the rich, soft blue of the sky had been like a window into a land of myth and legend, a land still to come where all he dreamed about would be true.</p><p>And only two nights later the dragon had pronounced this land to be foretold by ancient prophecies. Not just a lonely and frightened sorcerer’s castle in the air, but a reality to come, if he and Arthur followed destiny’s path, the Prince working to unite Albion and return freedom for magic users, Merlin by his side, protecting him and enabling him.</p><p>It wasn’t night time now. The sun was again bright although Merlin could smell rain blowing in from the Gedref sea and the trees in the forest beyond the town rushed with a wind that was slowly growing in force.</p><p>Merlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, remembering the forests at home, the fields, the river, the caves, the ridge and the dawn and sunsets. He recalled the voices and faces and the feeling of his mother holding him and stroking his hair, even when he was perhaps too old for this as Will had remarked, although less scornful than saddened. His own mother had long ago passed away and Will had no one to hold him.</p><p>Since Merlin had never had a father who might have wanted to ‘toughen’ the boy, he had been held and hugged by his mother until the day he left. And he missed it, missed her and Will and all of Ealdor so very much. Her letter called him home.</p><p>And yet there was Camelot, a city full of danger and promise going about its daily business below his window. There were new friends and places and knowledge to explore. There was a Prince and a destiny.</p><p>Merlin sighed heavily, grasping the letter tighter. Screwing up his eyes as if to block out the sight of the city below, Merlin stopped and breathed heavily for a long moment.</p><p>Then his jaw set and he jumped off the stool, almost injuring himself in the process as was usual. He had made a decision and he had to act on it now or he would never again find the courage to do it.</p><p>“Where are you going?” Gaius asked, startled as the boy raced to the door leading from the physician’s rooms to the wider castle.</p><p>“I need to go see Arthur now.” Merlin was out of the door before Gaius could reply.</p><p>The old man sighed and seemed to slump a little on his bench as if sadness and a sense of impending loss were weighing on him. He had foreseen this, of course.</p><p>Merlin’s head appeared again in the doorframe. “Was that the option you wanted me to have, Gaius?”</p><p>The physician nodded gravely.</p><p>The boy’s face regarded the old man thoughtfully but it was impossible to tell what was going through his head.</p><p>“Hm!” That was all Gaius received before Merlin’s head vanished again, his legs taking him towards the Prince’s chamber. Again, the fear of running out of time, of running out of courage before he got there, made Merlin press for speed.</p><p>“Arthur?” Merlin’s voice may have been rather forceful when he entered the Prince’s room. He may also have forgotten to knock.</p><p>That may have been the reason why the Prince and – God help him – the King both jumped and looked oddly like startled rabbits when Merlin’s entrance interrupted their private lunch together.</p><p>Merlin’s heart contracted painfully and for a moment, he was so petrified that the boy was sure he must have looked like a frightened rabbit, all wide-eyed and stiff, himself.</p><p>Then the King rose from his seat and Merlin lowered his head submissively, hoping that the King would be in a forgiving mood.</p><p>The boy flinched when the King growled at him, “What do you mean by exploding into the room so unexpectedly, hm? Have you no manners or respect? From the reports I received, I know you were trained and have been judged to have performed rather well.”</p><p>Merlin swallowed. The Steward had reported his progress to the King as well? And Merlin hadn’t even known!</p><p>“What is this boy? Insolence?” the King prompted.</p><p>“Sire…I…I…,“ Merlin stammered, unable to form coherent thoughts or sentences with his emotions swirling so frightfully in his stomach.</p><p>“Father, please excuse this sudden interruption. Merlin always works for me in the afternoon when he is done with training for the day. I am sure he didn’t mean any disrespect or insolence but was merely keen to get started on his duties here. Isn’t that right, Merlin?”</p><p>The Prince had provided the words Merlin had been unable to find and given him an out. It wasn’t technically a lie either. Rather an informed guess that, in this instance, happened to be incorrect. But he wasn’t fool enough not to take a proffered hand.</p><p>“Yes, Sire. I’m so very sorry for barging in like this. I know there is much to do here and I wanted to report and demonstrate to you all that I have learned this morning, Sire.” Had Merlin not been shivering with fear of the King, he’d have gagged at the faked subservience in his voice. He sounded like his fellow servant George!</p><p>Merlin bowed low to the King, his face cast in an expression of mortification and sincerest apology. “Please, my Lord, I truly did not mean to be disrespectful. Please, show mercy, Sire.” He was definitely overdoing it and he knew Arthur would be able to tell. On the other hand, this man had had him caned, thrown in the stocks twice and almost flogged and incarcerated, all without batting an eye, before Merlin’s state had been made known to the King.</p><p>It is surely wiser to be too apologetic than otherwise, Merlin thought.</p><p>“Very well,” the King said, his voice clearly already dismissing both the incident and the presence of the serving boy from his mind. “You are this once forgiven. See that it does not happen again.”</p><p>Merlin bowed again and stood with lowered head to the side as the King returned to the table, pulled on his leather gloves and wished Arthur goodbye. Then, without casting another glance at the boy, the monarch exited the room.</p><p>Merlin exhaled audibly, then turned to Arthur with a somewhat sheepish look. “Sorry!”</p><p>The Prince shook his head and crossed his arms. “Honestly, Merlin. I am trying to make sure you aren’t being hurt anymore. But it wouldn’t go amiss if you could try to avoid getting yourself into trouble. Help me a little, will you?”</p><p>“Sorry, Arthur.”</p><p>“Idiot.”</p><p>Although his father had already left the room, it seemed Arthur was by no means inclined to allow Merlin’s entrance to interrupt his lunch. The Prince sat back down, filling his plate once again.</p><p>“Now, Merlin. I know you’re not here for your chores, yet. Father wanted to have lunch a little earlier today so you should actually still be at servants’ lunchtime as well. So, what is it you so urgently wanted?”</p><p>Managing to shove half a chicken leg, a spoon of mashed carrots and a bite of a bread roll into his mouth, the Prince didn’t really seem to be that interested in Merlin’s concerns. His gluttonous appetite now almost proved his doom as Merlin’s reply made him choke and splutter.</p><p>“Gaius wrote to my mother. She wants me to come home to her.”</p><p>Merlin quickly had to pour the Prince some water in order to alleviate the danger of immediate food suffocation.</p><p>Still coughing, the Prince eloquently exclaimed, “What?”</p><p>“I asked him not to. But now she knows everything. She has written me a letter and asks me to come home to her.”</p><p>Merlin held up his mother’s missive as evidence to his words but his breath hitched when the Prince extended his hand to see it.</p><p>No, no! His mother, always so careful, had not exercised the same caution as usually. Obviously upset, she had made it very clear that Merlin had a secret to hide and although she hadn’t been specific, it would be evident that it was something that could land Merlin in serious trouble with the law. If the Prince read it…even Arthur wouldn’t be that oblivious.</p><p>Merlin hesitated but the Prince didn’t lower his hand. Unwillingly, Merlin surrendered the letter, waiting with bated breath what would happen now. Could he magic it blank somehow? But that’d be rather obvious too.</p><p>To Merlin’s surprise the Prince never even unfolded the paper. He stared at the writing on the outside of it, ran his fingers pensively over the slanted letters and fingered the bow his mother had used to tie the paper, not being permitted to use a waxen seal.</p><p>“What is she like? Your mother?”</p><p>“My mother?”</p><p>Arthur nodded slowly, still looking at the letter, transfixed. Merlin’s eyes softened.</p><p>“She always protects me and she knows me better than anyone. She…she would do anything for me. And I would do anything for her too.”</p><p>“Do you…are you going to…do you miss her, Merlin?”</p><p>It was strange to hear the Prince speak like this. His voice seemed as if it was breaking.</p><p>“Yes, Arthur. More than anything.” Merlin looked down and swiftly wiped away a tear. He knew of course why the Prince was pursuing this line of inquiry, could tell by Arthur’s distant longing in his eyes that he was wondering what it would have been like knowing and growing up with his own mother, Queen Ygraine.</p><p>But as much as Merlin hated to interrupt Arthur’s reflections, he had to end it here. Otherwise he would be robbed of all determination and courage.</p><p>“But I am not going home.”</p><p>Arthur’s head jerked up in surprise.</p><p>“What, Merlin?”</p><p>“I’m not going back. My place…my place is here now. At your side, Arthur.” <em>To fulfil the prophecy and make sure that the land I and so many others dream of will come into being under your reign. </em></p><p>“But…she’s your mother, Merlin.”</p><p>Merlin nodded. “Yes, and she wants my best. She believes my best to be away from Camelot with her because all she has heard has been about…what happened before. She doesn’t know about now.”</p><p>Arthur’s food now lay forgotten. His eyes were fixed solely on his manservant. The Prince swallowed heavily. “You put much faith in Camelot, Merlin. In me. I am not sure I deserve it.”</p><p>A strangely humble reply, for a Prince. But not for the Once and Future King. If anything could have affirmed Merlin’s choice and hardened his resolve, it had been that.</p><p>“Maybe not yet, my Lord.” This time, there was no hint of irony in the servant’s voice. “But you will one day. I am sure, one day, you will be deserving of every single act of loyalty and courage and honour of each of your citizens, noble or common.”</p><p>Silence reigned for a long moment and the Prince and his servant seemed intent on reading the meaning of the other’s words behind their eyes.</p><p>Then the Prince cleared his throat and broke the connection. Pretending to return his interest to his food, he asked unnecessarily, “So, you’re staying?”</p><p>“Yes, Arthur. But, I wanted to…I should like to…,” Merlin bit his lip, not sure what exactly he needed to ask for or how. “I want to send my mother a letter, my earnings for last month and the money you, the Steward and the squires gave me. I want the village to be able to buy seed grain and firewood for the winter.”</p><p>“That’s incredibly generous of you, Merlin. The people in your village must be very dear to you.”</p><p>Merlin’s lips began to twitch in a smile. “Only some, really. My mother of course. My friend Will. Some others. Most didn’t really care much either for me or my mother because…,” Merlin swallowed but decided not to pursue any further explanation, unsure of how the Prince would react to his being a bastard.</p><p>“But they have nevertheless all shared with us. In a village, you are all one community and everyone helps and accepts help at one time or another. I wasn’t always an easy child or the strongest worker. Yet they still made sure my mother and I never starved. I should like to return the favour. This can save people’s lives, Arthur.”</p><p>The Prince nodded his head in approval and Merlin automatically poured him another goblet of water, noticing that the Prince had finished it.</p><p>“Very good, Merlin. Now, what I still don’t understand is why any of this made you barge in here? You don’t need to tell me when you want to send a letter and you can do what you like with the money we gave you.”</p><p>Merlin stared down at his feet, shuffling, embarrassed by the lack of competence he would have to betray.</p><p>“Arthur, I…I don’t know how to send a letter from Camelot to Ealdor. In Ealdor, I knew everyone and all the tradesmen and when in the year they’d come by the village. We’d give them a coin and they’d carry it for us if it was on their way. Or a travelling neighbour would take a message. But I don’t know anyone here I could ask. And I don’t know how I could send the money or whether I should buy the supplies here and send those instead.”</p><p>Merlin shuffled his feet again and worried his lip with his teeth. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back and Arthur felt this unexplained need to protect and help this serving boy, as he had many times since Merlin’s ordeal had been made known.</p><p>“How do you send your letters or gifts to other nobles?”</p><p>Arthur sat back and frowned. How did that actually happen? He had never looked into the process. He just gave the command and someone else saw it done, he supposed. There were messengers for that sort of thing and ambassador nobles sent to various foreign courts, bearing gifts and representing Camelot and its King.</p><p>Well, perhaps it was high time for Arthur to look into just how letters and other items were sent from Camelot into the world. After all, he’d have to know to whom he was entrusting his words when he was King. Not for a while yet but he might as well start by helping his manservant.</p><p>The boy jumped slightly as Arthur got up, standing straight and, he hoped, regal. “This is what we will do, Merlin. You will go write your letter to your mother. Do you have quill and paper?”</p><p>“Gaius will have some.”</p><p>Again, Arthur was momentarily amazed by the fact that his manservant could actually read and write. He would have to get to know Merlin’s mother one day. And Merlin would have to be there. He would see them both together and maybe that would help him imagine what it would have been like…had his own mother lived. Arthur had often wondered whether he looked at all like her…</p><p>“Excellent. Before you do this, bring me the money and leave the rest with me. I think it will be better to buy supplies and transport them to Ealdor along with your scribbling. Bring the letter when it is done and I will have selected the right person to be our messenger!”</p><p>Merlin stared at him with an open mouth. “Arthur, I…thank you! Thank you so much for helping me! I didn’t know how to accomplish this by myself.”</p><p>Arthur looked a little uncomfortable.</p><p>“But will I have enough money to pay for the supplies and the messenger, do you think?”</p><p>The Prince honestly had no idea. But he had a plan.</p><p>“How many people live in your village?” The Prince asked, pretending to work out a calculation.</p><p>“About 100. 16 houses.”</p><p>Goodness, that sounded like a godforsaken place! No wonder Camelot held more attraction for Merlin. But quickly, Arthur corrected himself. Merlin had not really experienced much good to keep him in Camelot so far and the godforsaken place – Alidor or something? – contained a mother. No, no, he wouldn’t understand his manservant’s choice. Not in a 1000 years!</p><p>“You have enough money, Merlin. Now go and fetch it and write that letter!”</p><p>Merlin’s face stretched into what must have been his widest smile yet.</p><p>“Right away, Sire!” And the boy bounded down the corridor only to return a few minutes later with heavy pouches of money and exiting again immediately to start his letter.</p><p>Thus, Arthur was left to investigate into the messaging system within Camelot and how to buy supplies for his manservants’ village.</p><p>What on earth has happened to me, Arthur wondered as he traversed the hallways of the castle with unusual energy, quite enjoying his quest that wouldn’t benefit himself in the least. He had to admit, doing something for Merlin, it somehow felt good. Right.</p><p>Meanwhile, Merlin sat with a quill poised over a blank sheet of paper, Gaius merrily humming after being told that his ward would not leave the castle as he had feared. The old man had dreaded the loneliness that, just over a month ago, he hadn’t even noticed he had felt.</p><p>Merlin frowned at the paper. He knew what he wanted to write but the words were important. If he could have told his mother, face-to-face, it would have been easier. But a letter read left so much open to interpretation and misunderstanding and it was crucial to Merlin to make his reasons absolutely clear.</p><p>Finally, he began to write.</p><p>
  <em>Dear Mother,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Firstly, I am well and all my injuries are healed but I am so very sorry to have caused you worry and grief. Please, none of this is your fault. You sent me to Camelot for all the right reasons and there was never a moment, not a single one, when I didn’t know that or blamed you for it. So please, do not blame yourself or burden yourself any longer with what is past.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You see, since all this happened, much has changed. There is much more to Camelot than I had known before and all of it really begins with the princely prat, Arthur. (If he should snoop in my letters, I hope he has now learned his lesson.) </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But, let me tell you everything from the beginning… </em>
</p><p>From this point onwards, things were easier to put into words although Merlin ended up needing many, many words and pages to tell it all.</p><p>Explaining why he could not return to Ealdor, at least not yet, was once again harder as he had to write much of it in code in case Arthur or someone else really did snoop and thus found out his secret. But he knew, in the end, his mother would understand even without quite so many words. As he had told Arthur, she always knew him best.</p><p>Finishing with a promise to visit her soon and an invitation to see him in Camelot, Merlin re-read the lengthy epistle, then folded and tied it with the same cord his mother had used.</p><p>When Merlin got up from the bench, he noticed that Gaius, at some point, must have lit candles. It was now dark outside but it couldn’t be dinner time quite yet as Gaius was out, so still busy doing his final visits of the day.</p><p>Merlin stretched his stiff muscles, massaging his aching neck and flexing his fingers. Then he took a quick drink of water before snatching up the letter and returning to Arthur, running and, once again, rejoicing that his back was no longer screaming at him to stop.</p><p>Breathless, he stopped just short of pulling open Arthur’s door again, remembering to knock just in time.</p><p>“Enter!”</p><p>The Prince was sitting at his desk, clearly bored to death and emitting a jaw-splitting yawn over some reports. Merlin noticed that a thin but wiry man in black leather travel garb stood silently and slightly awkwardly in a corner of the room as if he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing there.</p><p>“Ah, Merlin.” The Prince jumped up, clearly relieved beyond measure to be excused from further perusal of administrative communications.</p><p>The Prince walked over to the wiry man in the corner, beckoning him forward. “This here is Graham. He is a messenger from Camelot but his assignments take him all over Albion. In the next few days, his journey will lead him past Ealdor and he has agreed to take your letter. I have also purchased the appropriate amount of grain and fuel for your village. Graham will see to it that it is delivered.”</p><p>Merlin again sported a wide grin and handed the letter to Graham who, in turn, began to smile, seeing the young serving boy so happy.</p><p>“Thank you!” Merlin said to both Graham and his Master at the same time.</p><p>At this, Graham nodded to Merlin and gave a low bow to the Prince. “I shall report back to you, Sire, when I have completed…when I am returned to Camelot.”</p><p>If Merlin was oblivious to the look that passed between Prince and messenger then only because he was so blissfully relieved and happy that his mother would soon receive his message and that his village would not suffer cold this winter and would be able to sow and reap richly next season.</p><p>The messenger left the room and Prince and servant settled back into their normal evening routine. Merlin straightened up the Prince’s room, lit his fire, cleared the table, brought his dinner, snatched food off his plate (he had missed his lunch and dinner today, after all) and was meanwhile chatting away merrily about his training with the Steward, how his mother had reprimanded Gaius and that the Steward had said that he would make a fine manservant. Arthur purposely snorted into his goblet of wine at the last comment, wanting to tease Merlin a little with faked disbelief.</p><p>When it was finally time to say goodnight, Arthur remembered something.</p><p>“Merlin?”</p><p>The boy, clearly groggy and ready for his own bed, returned yet again after having already half-opened the door to leave.</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>Well, Merlin was tired. It would be silly to expect manners from him that late into the evening. Arthur reached into the drawer by the bedside table.</p><p>“This is what remained of your money. Use it well now!”</p><p>Merlin gazed in surprise when the Prince handed him the pouch the Steward had given him as well as one of the smaller bags with the gold coins.</p><p>“Truly, Arthur? This is left for me to use? Even after buying all the supplies and paying Graham?”</p><p>“Yes, Merlin.”</p><p>“I don’t have anywhere to keep it.”</p><p>Arthur understood and cast his eyes about his room before suddenly, dangerously, hanging over the side of his bed, trying to reach for something underneath.</p><p>“Merlin, help me get that wooden box, will you?” The Prince’s chest was compressed against the bedframe, his head upside down so some imagination on Merlin’s part was required to understand his Master’s request.</p><p>Finally though, the boys had unearthed the chest.</p><p>“This is where I keep my personal funds, Merlin. You may add your bags here and I will look after them for you. Maybe that will give you an incentive to make sure my door is always properly locked when neither you or I are in the room.”</p><p>Merlin nodded, dumbstruck more with the trust the Prince put in him by revealing his own stash of money to a village boy than the gibe at his potentially lax attitude towards security.</p><p>Merlin extracted a few silver coins to have available to him then the pouches were locked together with Arthur’s wealth and the chest hidden again deep under the heart of the bed.</p><p>Merlin then added another log to Arthur’s fire – the nights were quite chilly now – then turned around and bid his Prince once again a good night.</p><p>“Oh, Merlin? If you ever need to send a letter again, just go and ask Graham. He told me he passes there quite often.”</p><p>Merlin smiled. Gratefully or knowingly? Arthur couldn’t tell in the flickering light from the fire. He hoped it wasn’t the latter.</p><p>“Goodnight, Merlin.”</p><p>As the Prince heard the door close softly behind his servant, he snuggled deep into his pillows, reflecting on the day and smiling when he remembered the way he had been able to help Merlin.</p><p>The boy didn’t know, of course, that Graham never actually passed by Ealdor, that he had been sent there specifically by Arthur and that the Prince had also instructed him to be available to carry any future missives of his manservant there, if the boy asked him. He had promised Graham extra payment.</p><p>Merlin also didn’t know that Arthur had decided to pay for some of the seed grain and firewood himself so that the boy wouldn’t be entirely without the coin for which he had suffered so much.</p><p>What the Prince himself didn’t know, or perhaps didn’t want to know, was that he had been in great part motivated to help Merlin because, even after only a few weeks, the thought of losing Merlin, of the boy returning to his home village, had shaken his inner balance quite significantly. Somehow, when he had first announced that his mother wished him home, Arthur had felt an odd pang in his chest, the thought of Merlin leaving him felt wrong, somehow. He didn’t want his manservant to leave Camelot. To leave him.</p><p>But Arthur didn’t know that. No. Not one bit of it.</p><p>*</p><p>Thoughts of the letter that was even now travelling to Ealdor, alongside quite a few other surprises for the villagers, upheld Merlin as he walked towards the quarters of the Master of the Hunt the next morning. The man’s accommodations, office and the storage rooms with the hunting equipment were located outside the walls of the citadel that faced away from the Lower Town. The kennels for the dogs and hounds as well as the cages with the birds of prey were close by in a beautiful green meadow, dotted with a few trees to provide shade but also not obstruct hunting practice. A few wooden perches for the birds had been hammered into the ground for the same reasons and Merlin observed two falconers already training the two castle merlins with various treats and large leather gloves.</p><p>Merlin highly doubted he would be trained in falconry and although he was slightly sad that he could not learn more about those magnificent and graceful birds, he wasn’t altogether too sad as he detested hunting.</p><p>Shuffling slightly as he reached the Master’s door, Merlin knocked and was bid to enter. Casting his eyes to the ground, Merlin, when inside, took a small bow then sad mildly, “Good morning, Sir. The Castle Stewart told me to report to you today so that you could train me to properly look after the Prince’s dogs when he asks me to.”</p><p>Merlin exhaled. He had been practising this little speech in order to avoid stammering or sounding too scared. So far, all had gone well. But then, the Master of the Hunt really wasn’t the man he was most afraid of. After all, he had only beaten the boy once and his punishment then had been entirely justified. However, when he considered having to face the Master of the Royal Gardens tomorrow…</p><p>“Merlin!” The boy raised his eyes at the sudden address and saw the Master walking across the room towards him in swift strides. Evidently, the man had just been greasing and organising a number of leashes and ropes that were scattered all across his rather untidy desk. Seeing the leashes and the man approach so suddenly, Merlin had to force himself not to retreat a few steps.</p><p>He did flinch however, his eyes now looking straight into the Master’s face, when the man laid a strong hand on the boy’s shoulder. There was a short, awkward silence. Merlin began to fidget slightly as he was unsure what to do or where to look. It felt wrong to look so straight into the Master’s eyes, as if he were his equal.</p><p>“Good…good morning, Sir -?” Merlin began again but the other man cut him off.</p><p>“Merlin, before we begin, I want to tell you how sorry I am for all that has been done to you and especially for my part in it. I didn’t know about the other masters and their treatment of you but I failed in my personal responsibility towards you and, by extension, towards every one of my servants. Instead of giving you proper training, I only expected and instead of listening and understanding, I took out my frustration on you when you failed. I have treated you like a dog…no, worse than a dog, for I have more patience with the animals than I had with you –“</p><p>“Sir, please,” Merlin interrupted. “You didn’t…you don’t have to…”</p><p>He had been growing increasingly embarrassed by the Master’s frank and genuine apology. He knew his cheeks were blazing and the Master’s hand on his shoulder felt heavier with each word that had been spoken.</p><p>“Of course, I have to, Merlin. Don’t you think it’s right to apologise when you have done something wrong?”</p><p>Merlin opened his mouth but did not know how to reply to this. Of course, he knew it was right but the Master really hadn’t…</p><p>“But, Sir, you haven’t mistreated me. You only beat me once and I deserved that and the night in the kennels really wasn’t that bad!”</p><p>“It is kind of you to say so but incorrect. Perhaps you did deserve a punishment for not holding on to the dogs tightly enough. But Merlin, I know that when I whipped you, I was not calm and composed. I was outraged and did not control my temper. I took out that anger on you and didn’t stop even though I heard you groan with the pain. Even then, I thought that you must have some previous injury to feel the beating quite so keenly but I didn’t stop and check. Had I done so, all of this would have been over much quicker.”</p><p>Merlin swallowed. “Really Sir, it wasn’t so bad. Your beating really doesn’t compare to what others…,” The boy stopped and bit his lip, realising that he had just accused his other superiors. If this got back to them…</p><p>Surprisingly, the man chuckled at this. “Merlin, can’t you take an apology? I mean it and in terms of my own responsibility, it doesn’t matter what others have done. I failed you and I insulted you by implying that you were worth less than the dogs. Please, will you accept my apology?”</p><p>Still awkward but realising that the Master would not be deterred, Merlin muttered a quiet, “Thank you.”</p><p>Breaking out into a wide smile that lit up the man’s face with a jolly friendliness, like the green summer forest he spent his days in, the Master clapped Merlin on the back at this and, for perhaps the first time since the fateful banquet, Merlin felt that true reconciliation with one of his masters had been achieved. He was grateful.</p><p>“Well then, my boy. Let’s begin your training. I doubt it will take long – you won’t be required to do much here and I am certain you know a lot already. So, how about we go through the tasks you might be asked to perform and you do them as best as you can. If I see areas where you need extra training or advice, I will help you.”</p><p>Merlin nodded, also smiling and side by side, the two walked out towards the kennels to take care of the Prince’s dogs.</p><p>As the Master had predicted, Merlin was by now fairly comfortable performing most tasks but the Master, from time to time, would add to his knowledge, elaborating on the various ways to hold a dog leash tightly, how to calm anxious dogs or give various commands the animals were used to.</p><p>As the dogs were already familiar with Merlin and clearly attached to him, it was easy for the boy to issue the commands. The animals fawned on him and obeyed him gladly, happily panting and yapping when the boy rewarded them with a treat.</p><p>In the storage room with the hunting gear, the Master observed the boy’s obvious disgust when he had to learn about the uses of various implements or which knives would be used for breaking open or cutting up an animal.</p><p>“Well, let’s hope the Prince doesn’t ask you to do this too often. But it’s useful, Merlin. You never know when you may have to survive in the forest and whether you might be the only person still able to hunt or prepare meat.”</p><p>Merlin swallowed down his disgust but agreed,” Yes, Sir. I guess, if it’s about making sure that Arthur survives, it’s good that I know this.”</p><p>“Or you!”</p><p>The Master chuckled again when the boy cast him a look of genuine surprise, as if he had never considered that his own life might be worth saving and preserving as well.</p><p>Soon, the Master declared that training was finished and although he hadn’t asked the boy to do anything strenuous or difficult, he could see his shoulders relaxing at the pronouncement. Clearly, even despite the apology, Merlin had still felt some anxiety about today.</p><p>As the pair traversed the meadow to return to the Master’s office, the man noticed Merlin staring in fascination at the two falconers that were training birds to fly and retrieve at command.</p><p>A quick smile spread across the Master’s face as he diverted his path towards the training group; Merlin, wide-eyed, followed behind him.</p><p>For the rest of that day, Merlin’s lips were turned up in a gentle smile that couldn’t be dislodged even when Arthur teased him about it. Naturally, the boy hadn’t been able to tell his Prince that the Master of the Hunt had allowed him to come close to, hold and even fly the castle merlins for a while just before lunch. Falconry was a pastime for the nobility and their specialised servants or hunters. No peasant would be allowed near the precious birds, especially not those belonging to the King himself.</p><p>The falconers themselves had looked wary of the Master’s command to let the boy hold the birds at first. But their misgivings had dissipated as soon as they witnessed the blissful expression on the serving boy’s face when the first merlin had landed on his gloved, outstretched arm, receiving a treat in return.</p><p>Merlin had stared in amazement at the gold-rimmed eyes of the merlin on his hand. There was a vastness and intelligence in them that spoke of a power inaccessible to humans. These black eyes had seen the world from above and from up there, Merlin mused as he timidly stroked the bird’s blue wings and yellow breast, all problems and concerns of mankind must look so small and insignificant.</p><p>“Maybe one day, I’ll learn to transform myself into a bird and then you and I can watch the world together from above and soar among the clouds.” Merlin simply had to confide these words to the bird; he felt a kinship to it, similar to the odd connection he felt with the dragon. He dearly hoped his whisper had been small enough to escape the notice of the other three men and when they showed no other reaction than to prompt him to throw the bird in the air again, the boy did so with increased relief and elation.</p><p>Merlin was absolutely certain that his training session in the Royal Gardens the next day would be quite different and he was right.</p><p>When the boy entered the gardens the following morning, he was slightly taken aback by the place teeming with servants. The last time he had been there, he and the Master had been utterly alone and although Merlin had been told by the Steward to ‘help’ with the potato harvest, the boy had been working the field by himself.</p><p>Walking through the general busyness towards the centre of the gardens where he had spotted the Master, Merlin realised that perhaps the reason for this had been the harvesting of the grain and hay in the outlying fields. It was likely the servants usually assigned to the Royal Gardens had been needed full-time to assist the farmhands. Now, Merlin knew from experience, the fields would lie shorn and empty and the servants had been recalled to their usual stations and duties.</p><p>The thought of not having to face the Master alone comforted Merlin somewhat; however, he quickly changed his mind when the man spotted him, his face turning red with anger, and shouted so all could hear, “And here is the serving boy who thinks he can tell his masters how to run their own household!”</p><p>All life around Merlin stopped abruptly and the boy froze also, shivering with the humiliation of having every gaze turned on him. Trying to avoid them all, he lowered his head and whispered a nervous greeting.</p><p>Merlin jumped when the man barked again, “What’re you all looking at? Never seen a worthless slug of a servant before?”</p><p>The man grabbed the nearest servant, a girl of about Merlin’s age, and shoved her back towards where she had been harvesting apples from a tree, causing her to stumble and fall. Immediately, everyone began to move again, scuttling like frightened ants, Merlin and the Master caught in the middle of the maelstrom.</p><p>Merlin took a sharp breath through his teeth but stood his ground when the man stepped threateningly towards him until he stood close. Too close.</p><p>“You may have the Prince’s favour now, boy, but don’t think that will last! And I don’t forget and have time to wait. I always thought the other masters were too soft on you and that’s what they got for their compassion.”</p><p>Merlin blinked but refrained from wiping off the spittle that had landed on his cheeks.</p><p>“King’s orders or no, you’ll get no special treatment from me, boy. You’ll work hard until your back breaks or I shall report you to the Prince. You’ll complete each task to my perfect satisfaction or I shall report you to the Prince. Any grumbling or complaining or tardiness and I shall report you to the Prince. And make no mistake, I shall insist on you receiving punishment for any and all of these offenses. Provoke me, think just once that you can act above your station with me and you’ll be beaten until your flesh is soft enough for cooking!”</p><p>Merlin kept his eyes on the ground, his shoulders hunched. His forehead was wrinkled with the effort to not recoil from the man’s venom. At the same time, Merlin’s mind also noted that the Master’s words sounded so mad and ludicrous. Insane almost.</p><p>It was a sign that Merlin’s confidence and emotional state had been steadily healing over the past two weeks. The boy recognised that much of the man’s anger stemmed from within himself; possibly, the man was afraid of losing power so he tried to assert his position by trampling on his inferiors. The revelations about Merlin’s treatment had shaken his control and questioned his actions and the man needed to re-establish himself as the person in charge. And Merlin would be a fool to provoke the man to use more than words to do it.</p><p>“Sir, I will do everything you ask to the best of my ability, I promise,” Merlin said softly, placatingly. He hoped the fearful flutter in his heart was not audible in his voice.</p><p>Too late, the boy realised that his words had been hot coals on the Master’s head. The man seemed to grow taller and more irate but, thankfully, Merlin’s reply seemed to have robbed him of speech. There was no taunt he could make to so meek an answer, as much as he wanted to.</p><p>So, instead, he impatiently waved over an elderly woman who walked over wiping her earth-stained hands on an apron.</p><p>“Pernilla, take this poor excuse of a servant and show him the ropes. The Prince wishes him to learn all about the duties here so be sure to make him work for his coin! I shall be watching and if I see that you are not driving him hard enough, I will punish both of you.”</p><p>Merlin’s eyes flicked apologetically to the woman. He did not want anyone else implicated by his failings. To his surprise, the woman didn’t bat an eye but stood a little straighter, looking the Master squarely in the face.</p><p>“There is no need to threaten me! I have worked harder in this garden than you ever have and I have trained servants to be skilled and content workers from before you were born. I know my duty. Make sure you know yours!”</p><p>This was such a bold speech that Merlin’s mouth gaped open in surprise and he perceived faint chuckling from various groups working within earshot.</p><p>Interestingly, the Master also seemed flabbergasted at Pernilla’s audacity but, like Merlin, he seemed to sense that the remainder of the gardens stood strongly behind her words and this seemed to cool his rage. After all, if he caused a full-blown riot among his own servants, he would most definitely lose his position.</p><p>“Very well then! Get on with it,” the Master ordered but turned around to walk to a spot slightly more distant to Pernilla and the serving boy.</p><p>When Merlin glanced up at the woman, she gave him an amused smile.</p><p>“Chin up, Merlin. I know you have suffered at this idiot’s hand but be assured that overall his bark is worse than his bite. We’d never have allowed him to treat you in the way he has if any of us had been present when you did such a great job digging all those potatoes by yourself.”</p><p>The details of my ordeal must really have travelled like wildfire, Merlin reflected as he cast a shy smile back at the old woman.</p><p>“Thank you, madam.”</p><p>“Oh! What’s this, Merlin? Madam?” Pernilla laughed merrily, gently took the boy by the arm and began to lead him towards a number of fields growing carrots, turnips and other vegetables. “Just call me Pernilla.”</p><p>Merlin nodded his assent, smiling.</p><p>“Now, how much do you already know about planting, growing and harvesting?”</p><p>Very soon, Pernilla had realised that because of Merlin’s childhood in Ealdor, there was hardly anything the boy needed to be taught. So, after she had shown him where he could find different tools and seeds and what various plants were grown in the Royal Gardens, the training morphed into a regular workday as Merlin had often known in his village. The servants in the gardens all seemed cheerful and interested in him. He told them about Ealdor and his mother and the kinds of plants they had grown as a farming community. Then others spoke about their own childhood or the farms they one day hoped to buy.</p><p>Before long, it was past mid-morning and Merlin, although dirty, sweaty and tired, had thoroughly enjoyed the company and the work in the fresh autumn air.</p><p>It happened during a break to drink water at the well not soon afterwards. Merlin sensed rather than saw a marked shift in the atmosphere. Everyone seemed to stand up a little straighter or become just a little busier. It wasn’t done in a fearful way; rather, it seemed that someone needed to be impressed.</p><p>A short turn of the head told Merlin all he needed to know. An elegant and rich lady had appeared in the gardens and was now conversing with the Master. As he stared at her, evidently for too long, the heads of both the lady and the Master turned towards him simultaneously.</p><p>Merlin panicked and lowered his head, his breath quickening and his fingers dumbly fumbling for something, anything to do. He was acutely aware that he was currently unoccupied with work, so he feared what the Master would do or what he would report to the Prince. Equally, it was forbidden to watch nobility quite so frankly as he had done. If the lady took offense…</p><p>“You, serving boy, over here!” The Master’s shout echoed across the gardens and Merlin scrambled to obey the command. Soon, he stood before the man and he felt the gaze of the rich woman trailing him up and down.</p><p>“So, you are the Prince’s manservant? Merlin, is it?”</p><p>Shocked that the lady would know his name, Merlin nodded.</p><p>“I have heard much about you. Come on, look up so I can see your face.”</p><p>Merlin obeyed with slight hesitation but his entire body relaxed when he looked up into the warm, blue eyes before him. For a short moment, he thought he was looking into his mother’s eyes. There was no anger in them or arrogance or irritation. Only a friendly interest.</p><p>“My, what a handsome young man. And so brave and loyal as I have heard.”</p><p>Merlin couldn’t help it. He began to smile at this and it was answered in the lady’s face.</p><p>“Thank you, my Lady!”</p><p>“Oh no! You mistake me, my boy, I am not a noblewoman. Perhaps I can be called fairly rich but in the end I am just a commoner like you.”</p><p>Grinning more widely, Merlin shook his head as if to dispute her claim and the lady laughed. Then he quickly lowered his head again as he perceived a dangerous grumbling coming from the Master who had stood ignored for too long. Clearly, he did not like the woman taking to the boy.</p><p>“Did you finish picking the berries, boy?”</p><p>Merlin’s smile vanished and he bit his lip.</p><p>“Sir, I…I am not finished yet but I only started on it half an hour ago and –“</p><p>“That is plenty of time. Clearly you were being lazy and meddling in things that are none of your concern.”</p><p>Merlin couldn’t quite understand what things he was supposed to have meddled with and he knew that thirty minutes were far from enough time to pick off the multitude of berries on the bush. But it didn’t matter what he thought. It only mattered what the Master would report to the Prince.</p><p>Merlin sighed in resignation. This, then, was the day he would be beaten again for the first time since the fateful banquet. And by the Master of the Royal Gardens no less.</p><p>Then a movement stilled him. The lady took the Master by the arm and led him towards the bush Merlin had been working on. They were now too far away for Merlin to hear their discussion but it was clearly lively, the woman seemingly gaining the upper hand as he watched them over his shoulder.</p><p>Then they returned and the lady gently patted the boy’s cheek.</p><p>“Don’t worry, Merlin. We have realised that there were more berries on the bush than we had thought. You don’t need to be afraid. Just keep going until you are done.”</p><p>Merlin bowed with thankfulness and relief.</p><p>“Oh, and Merlin, before you go back to your work, please fetch me a cup of cold water?”</p><p>Running and panting, the boy arrived at the well and while he waited his turn to fill the cup, one of the other servants filled him in.</p><p>“It’s the Master’s lady friend, the richest widow in town. We all wish they would get married soon. Of course, she wouldn’t be officially allowed to have a say in the workings of the Royal Gardens but she is kind and fair and around her the Master becomes as meek as a lamb.”</p><p>Merlin giggled at this and felt a little naughty. Then he ran back to hand the cup to the lady.</p><p>“Thank you, Merlin. What a shame you already have a position with the Prince. If you ever fancy a change, come and work for me. I would be delighted to have such a biddable and polite boy working in my household.”</p><p>Overwhelmed, Merlin bowed again, then returned to his task with renewed fervour. His fear of the Master, he realised, had almost entirely dissipated and he felt his eagerness to please the lady echoed in every servant in the gardens.</p><p>“Nevertheless, I’d rather not go back to working in the gardens too often, if it is all the same to you, Sire,” Merlin requested sheepishly from the Prince that afternoon.</p><p>The Prince nodded absent-mindedly.</p><p>“Arthur? What’s going on?” Merlin searched his Master’s face with concern. Then he broke into a mocking tone, “Did that fly get to you after all?”</p><p>“Oh, shut up, Merlin!” The Prince huffed in exasperation. He remained pensive as Merlin expertly built and lit his fire. As the boy felt the warm, orange glow of the flames begin to caress his features, the Prince spoke again.</p><p>“I can’t have this man frightening you like that or any other servants. However, I don’t know what to do. I doubt my father will dismiss him just because he threatened my manservant.” Even though I certainly would, Merlin heard although Arthur didn’t say the words.</p><p>Another few moments were spent in silence as Merlin collected dirty laundry from various surfaces in the room, wondering yet again how Arthur’s smallclothes managed to get on top of his bed’s canopy!</p><p>“Ha!” The Prince exclaimed suddenly and Merlin jumped so much that the laundry basket was flung in the air, the clothes falling down on the unamused servant like rather smelly snowflakes on a snowman.</p><p>Angrily, Merlin picked one of Arthur’s socks out of his hair.</p><p>“What was that for? Do you want to startle me to death…my Lord?”</p><p>Arthur only threw him a minute look of irritation before his face broke into another grin. He walked over to Merlin swiftly and made sure to upend the fallen basket on his head as well.</p><p>“There you go, Merlin. No one can see your glum face now and the laundry is in the basket after all.”</p><p>The Prince laughed at the sound of protest that issued from under the wicker ware.</p><p>“As for the Master of the Royal Gardens, I’ve figured out what to do. You won’t have to go back there until I sort it out, I promise. And afterwards, I imagine, the Master will be a changed man.”</p><p>Whistling, Arthur danced – danced! – out of the door, leaving Merlin to unearth his bedraggled self from underneath the basket.</p><p>It was some time later, after the entire debacle with Bayard of Mercia and Merlin mercifully not dying of poison because of the Prince’s bravery, when the boy heard the news that the Master of the Royal Gardens had finally married the richest widow in town.</p><p>As a wedding present, it was said, the Prince himself elevated the lady to be in command in the gardens alongside her husband, Master and Mistress ruling as equals. Merlin smiled when he heard the story, both because he could clearly perceive Arthur’s hand in it and because he knew that the Royal Gardens, from now on, would be a much better and fairer place for the workers.</p><p>*</p><p>Merlin’s final day of training dawned grey and foggy, with clouds hanging heavy in the sky and the smell of cold, biting rain blowing in through Merlin’s window. Even before it was time to rise, Merlin lay awake, shivering under his thin blanket. Gaius had given it to him when he first arrived in Camelot. It had still been summer then so the boy had barely needed it.</p><p>Now, however, it was clear that colder days were on the move and the boy thought with some consternation of the coming winter months. Earning now a much larger amount of coin than he had been told at the start, he would be able to purchase some appropriate clothes and also a warmer blanket from the market. But the boy knew that each piece of silver he spent on himself would mean less for his mother in Ealdor, where winters were even colder than here in more southern Camelot, where food was more sparse and the walls of the hut hardly kept out the frost and wind.</p><p>When he had still lived with his mother, it had been their regular custom to snuggle up in one bed for all of the colder months. Only thus was sleep ever possible and their bodies would warm up close to each other. Merlin didn’t know a single family in Ealdor who didn’t huddle in the same way to keep warm and save firewood.</p><p>The boy again felt happy when he considered that fuel, this winter at least, would not be a problem for the people of his village. Yet his mother now lived all alone, still wore thin, threadbare clothing and the walls and roof were leaky and did not keep out the elements. No, Merlin had decided. What extra coin he could put by would be sent to his mother. He would be fine. He would just have to keep close to the many fires of the castle and wear all he had to bed. It would be fine.</p><p>With these thoughts on his mind, the boy finally decided to get up. Stiffly and still tightly wrapped in his blanket, Merlin poured himself some icy water from the bucket to wash. It didn’t help his shivering but the boy was instantly feeling wide awake.</p><p>After dressing in his everyday clothes – not his new shirt this time, as it would be sure to smell of horse dung forever after if he took it to the stables – Merlin walked out into Gaius’ room and sighed in relief at the roaring fire that had already been lit in the grate. For a moment, the boy stood and warmed his front and back, then ran to help Gaius carry in a load of firewood when the old man appeared in the door.</p><p>“Gaius, I should be doing that!” Merlin protested, managing to lift the logs from the physician’s arms and instantly drop them all over the floor.</p><p>Gaius’ eyebrow rose in reply but he smirked. “Are you sure you can handle it, Merlin?” Then milder, he added,” I didn’t want to wake you, my boy. I know, even though you will deny it, that your body can still use all the rest it can get and that training has been draining you.”</p><p>Merlin had managed to stack the wood in a corner by the fireplace in something resembling a neat pile. “Really, Gaius, I’m fine. I don’t feel exhausted, honestly.”</p><p>“You may not feel it, but you look it.”</p><p>Merlin pursed his lips, annoyed that Gaius was, of course, right and that this conversation would be won by the old man anyway who could always count on his knowledge and experience as a physician to have the upper hand.</p><p>But then, the boy didn’t really mind. He smiled instead, “Only one more day of training, Gaius. Then it’s back to being a normal servant among servants.”</p><p>“Except that the Prince’s manservant is never just a servant among servants, Merlin.”</p><p>Merlin shrugged. “Maybe not. But I better go now. Breakfast first, then Arthur…and then the stables. Sorry if I come back a little smelly today.”</p><p>And with that the boy was out of the room, running swiftly to the kitchen to be timely for the servants’ mealtime and also to warm up just a little more as the chilly air in the castle corridors seemed determined to cause goose bumps and shivers to break out all over his skin with its ghostly touch.</p><p>About an hour afterwards, Merlin entered the stables. He had tried to ignore the gnawing feeling of dread that had begun to claw at his insides, attacking him just as the cold weather was from outside. The Master of the Stables, Merlin knew, would be a harder piece of work than the Master of the Hunt. Perhaps even than the Stewart.</p><p>No matter the royal decree or the effort Merlin would put into the training, the boy knew that his offense of being born a bastard would weigh against him grievously and there was nothing he could do to change this about himself. The day the Master had found out about his illegitimacy, Merlin had been beaten repeatedly and mercilessly. Could the Master overlook his parentage when dealing with him today or in future?</p><p>Merlin stopped short when he entered the stables. The Master stood facing the doorway, hands impatiently on his hips, the riding crop held loosely in his right.</p><p>Unsure what to do and trying to hide the shock and fear that had flared up on his inside, Merlin took a short bow.</p><p>“Good morning, Sir. I am here to report for training.”</p><p>“Really?” The man’s voice dripped with sarcasm and Merlin tried to supress a wince. “What time do you make it then, eh, boy? I have been waiting for you for half an hour.”</p><p>Merlin bit his lip which was trembling. He had good reason to be a little delayed – ten minutes at the most – but it took him about half a minute, the Master staring him down all the while like a hawk eyeing his prey, to dare mutter a reply.</p><p>“Sir, please, I apologise. Prince Arthur had requested I help him with some correspondence this morning before coming to you.”</p><p>“Indeed! Of course, the Crown Prince of Camelot must be utterly reliant on his illiterate bastard of a manservant to be able to cope with the affairs of the kingdom.” Again, the man’s voice was laced with fake understanding and crushing insult and Merlin felt it like blood-chilling drops all down his spine. Clearly, the man did not believe his story but an attempt at asserting it to be true would only enrage him. And Merlin really did not intend to be beaten for the first time in weeks because he was accused of falsehood or of implying that the Master was wrong.</p><p>Unsure what to do, Merlin stayed still and mute, swallowing convulsively but unable to dislodge the knot of nervousness in his throat.</p><p>The Master took a few steps closer to him. “I will see to it that you make up for what you have dawdled away this morning! You better not let me catch you wasting any more time, is that understood?”</p><p>“Yes, Sir,” Merlin promised, his eyes still downcast.</p><p>The first set of tasks saw Merlin take care of, clean and feed the horses in the stables. Once again, the animals’ favouritism for Merlin helped him to accomplish these quickly and, as it appeared, without making a mistake. The Master was silently watching, curling and uncurling his fingers around the riding crop. Looking after the tack was next and although Merlin received a few snarled orders and insults, he once again managed to complete everything without calling down a thunderstorm of fury from the Master’s clouded face.</p><p>After the horses, the man told Merlin to name and recite the use of all the various tubs, jars and flasks used for cleaning to be found in the cupboard in the stables. Merlin did quite well here also, having had Sir Leon teach him various useful things the day before the banquet.</p><p>The Master, brow darkened, again remained mostly silent, only pointing at one or other of the cleaning materials in turn with his riding crop, sending a flinch through Merlin’s body every time the crop was extended. The boy remembered only too well the pain this instrument could inflict and having it anywhere near frightened him.</p><p>Lastly, the Master ordered Merlin to take the horses outside and tie them to the posts, so that the stables could be properly mucked out. This was Merlin’s least favourite thing to do, so naturally, the Prince had gotten into the habit of assigning it to his manservant whenever he was cross with him.</p><p>Time passed slowly and although the Master stood motionless in the doorway, Merlin could sense the man’s impatient breathing providing a rhythm to the increasingly loud pounding of his own heartbeat. Meanwhile, Merlin himself was hardly able to breathe as the stench of horse dung clung to his clothes, his hair, his skin, quite possibly, his very soul. Also, he had grown exceedingly tired by this point. His sweat evaporated in the cool air and caused shivers to run through his thin body.</p><p>But finally, finally, even this most hated task had been completed and it just seemed that all would go well after all, when a guard appeared in the stables, spotted the Master and bowed low to him.</p><p>The man did not take his eyes off the boy while he listened to what the guard had to report to him. Merlin, who was currently returning the pitchfork to its place while, with his other hand, trying to remove dirty straw and horse dung from his breeches and shirt, watched the exchange from the corner of his eyes. Somehow, he sensed that whatever was spoken by the guard was in reference to him.</p><p>As if to verify his premonition, the Master’s face began to swell and the veins of his neck began to pulse visibly from his open shirt collar. With a rash gesture, the Stablemaster dismissed the guard who scrambled away, clearly also startled by the harrowing transformation of the man.</p><p>Merlin wished he still held the pitchfork – anything - to protect himself and to keep the Master at bay. Unfortunately, he stood empty-handed, tremors racking his frame even before the Master grabbed him and began shaking him violently, spitting out his anger.</p><p>“You! You utter halfwit!”</p><p>Merlin’s head was thrown painfully from side to side and the boy struggled to form words and to fight off the dizziness.</p><p>“Please, what…what have I done?” He finally managed to get out. The boy could hear the blood pounding in his ears and he knew this wasn’t good. He couldn’t pass out now, not with the Master so enraged at him.</p><p>“Please, Sir,” Merlin pleaded again.</p><p>Instead of a response, the Master stopped to shake him – for which the boy was thankful – and grabbed him by his collar, dragging him outside so that Merlin had to stumble behind on his tiptoes. This portended something terrible, but the boy was at a loss what he could have done. He hadn’t even worked outside all morning; he had been in the stables.</p><p>So where was the man taking him?</p><p>However, the air in Merlin’s lungs seemed to evaporate all of a sudden as he was brought to the wooden posts where he had previously fastened the horses only to now behold…nothing. Not a single horse still stood in its place and Merlin oddly thought of a bandit attack. Surely, this would have been noticed though.</p><p>“The…the horses…,” Merlin began to stammer and the Stablemaster responded by renewing the forceful shaking of the boy.</p><p>“That, scum, is exactly what I would like to know. I told you to tie them to the posts and now the palace guard reported that he had seen a fine team of royal horses leisurely canter their way through the Lower Town, bent on finding new pastures in the forest.”</p><p>Merlin’s eyes widened. “Sir, I did, I swear I did tie them. I didn’t just let them go!”</p><p>The man didn’t listen but put his scarlet face close to the boy who struggled unsuccessfully to maintain his distance.</p><p>“Do you know how much any one of these horses is worth?”</p><p>Merlin couldn’t fathom, but if he had to guess, he’d say more than his life. Maybe more than the life of any servant in the castle. But he didn’t dare to answer.</p><p>“Sir, please let me go. I can find the horses and bring them back.” He’d have to use magic but the circumstances were dire and perhaps the horses would obey him mostly willingly.</p><p>“It’s too late for that, you miserable wretch!”</p><p>Merlin’s mouth dropped open. Had the mounts all escaped so far that they were beyond retrieval? Or had they been injured? But then the boy noticed the string of guards entering the courtyard, each leading a horse peacefully by its halter. None of the animals seemed hurt or unduly distressed. In fact, they all seemed extremely pleased and content, like giddy children exhausted after a day’s outing.</p><p>Merlin sighed in relief but felt his throat close up in renewed panic when the Stablemaster tightened his grip on the boy’s collar. It was true, the horses’ successful return to the stables would have no bearing on his own predicament, at least, as it seemed, as far as the Stablemaster was concerned.</p><p>Without a word, the man dragged the shivering boy back inside the stables, Merlin stumbling weakly. He had tied the horses properly, he was sure of it. How could this have happened?</p><p>Then Merlin started to struggle violently with all his might. The Master had pushed him towards a wall, holding him in place tightly with his fist, his back towards the man. Merlin had been in this position too many times: he knew that the riding crop was already hovering over his back.</p><p>Not three weeks ago, the boy would have stood in near stupor, terrified of the Master and the imminent beating but equally feeling guilty and distressed as Merlin would have believed that he only had himself to blame for any punishment.</p><p>Was it the confidence that had been growing in him over these last two weeks or the Prince’s reassurances, their banter? Or was it the fact that even with an extreme stretch of the imagination, Merlin could not come up with any way that he could be held to account. He felt keenly that he was blameless for whatever had happened after he had tied up the animals. And he felt a still relatively unknown sense of righteous anger. This man clearly planned to violate the commands of his Prince! Merlin wouldn’t have it.</p><p>“Sir, don’t! You cannot! The Prince has forbidden you to beat me unless he is first informed of it.” Accompanying his bold words, Merlin wriggled and squirmed and twisted, surprising both the Master and himself with his strength that suddenly propelled him to the other end of the room where the boy stood breathing heavily, throwing out a hand instinctively before dropping it as his heart skipped a beat. His magic had almost struggled free just as he had from the grip of the Master. Possibly, the man had seen nothing more than a boy throwing out a hand to ward off his pursuer but Merlin himself was appalled by how close he had come to unleashing a sudden magical retaliation on the Master.</p><p>Thankfully, he had regained his senses at the last moment and now stood panting and glaring at the man from across the stables. The man glared back at him.</p><p>“Very well then, bastard,” the Master seemed to be having difficulty swallowing his venomous bile for the time being. “As you suggest, let us go to the Prince.”</p><p>The man stalked forward and Merlin couldn’t help but be taken again by the collar and walked out of the stables and towards the castle entrance like a convicted criminal on the way to the gallows.</p><p>Merlin tried to tread steadily which wasn’t easy as he was nearly suffocated by his own jacket and shirt. Shivers ran down his spine when the man began to chuckle menacingly behind him.</p><p>“I wonder what the Prince’s reaction will be to the servant who nearly caused the escape of all the King’s horses.”</p><p>The man had a point, Merlin conceded. What would the Prince do? What would he be forced to do when prompted by the Master to uphold the law by meting out the just deserts to his manservant?</p><p>Before Merlin’s whirring thoughts could reach a conclusion, the Master with his prey clasped firmly in his talons, reached Arthur’s door, knocked and was asked to enter.</p><p>Merlin found time to heave a desperate sigh when he saw the state of the royal chambers. He had cleaned them only a few hours ago, yet, it seemed, Merlin was not the only young man in Camelot who could upset a room with very little effort and no magic whatsoever.</p><p>However, Merlin’s real problem appeared when the boy noticed the two figures that had been disrupted deep in a conversation: the Prince of Camelot and the Stewart.</p><p>Merlin felt himself weaken. Two masters and a Prince that was fonder of his equine companions than was helpful for Merlin at this moment: it didn’t bode well for him. Still held up pitifully by his collar, Merlin, the Stablemaster, the Stewart and the Prince all froze and stared at one another for a few awkward seconds.</p><p>“What is the meaning of this?” the Prince finally demanded, looking so pointedly at Merlin that the boy thought at first that he was meant to answer. He gulped but before he could bring out a word, the Stablemaster began, accompanying his words for emphasis by shaking the boy’s frame, so awkwardly suspended like a pair of wet trousers on a washing line.</p><p>“Good morning, my Prince,” the man said with such a honey-coated voice that Merlin felt ready to retch at the bogus flattery. “I’m saddened to bring you a most distressing and alarming report about the actions of your manservant here.”</p><p>Arthur’s brows began to knit together and his eyes flicked towards Merlin’s. The boy didn’t know how to respond. He still believed himself guiltless but he was also absolutely certain that it was almost impossible for even the Prince to dismiss a master’s report just to spare a lowly servant boy, no matter whether this boy would maintain his innocence or not. It just wasn’t done and the hierarchy in a castle was fragile enough under normal circumstances. The loyalties and good will of their yeomen had to be carefully preserved by the rulers. Gifts could be given to nobles but to maintain the good faith and service of a skilled master, even the Prince would have to bow to the accepted conventions.</p><p>His reason supplying him with this, the only possible outcome, Merlin hung his head dejectedly, knowing that he would not be spared a punishment this time.</p><p>“What has Merlin done?” This time it had been the Stewart to speak. Merlin couldn’t tell by his voice how the man felt about him. It seemed to be laced with an odd mixture of stern disapproval, amusement and also concern.</p><p>
  <em>Is the Stewart concerned about me? </em>
</p><p>Merlin didn’t think that the two of them had patched up their relationship to such an extend but he did wonder. However, not for long, as the Stablemaster forcefully cast him forwards into the middle of his three superiors, the boy landing painfully on his hands and knees.</p><p>“Firstly, the boy appeared late for training and then had the audacity to blame it on you, Sire.”</p><p>Here the Master bowed to Prince Arthur. When the latter made a gesture with his hand, the other man continued.</p><p>“He tried to excuse his tardiness by saying that he helped you with some communications this morning, Sire. Which is, of course, a ludicrous lie –“</p><p>“Merlin told the truth. He can read and write,“ Arthur said simply, easily dismissing the man’s complaint. The Stablemaster gulped and hesitated momentarily and even the Stewart rounded on Arthur in disbelief.</p><p>Ignoring their reactions, Arthur queried, “Is that all Merlin has done?”</p><p>“No!” The Master drew himself up again and pointed an accusing finger at Merlin. “I told this wretch to fasten the horses securely by their halters on the wooden posts, just outside the stables so that I could properly instruct him on how to rid the boxes of dung and refresh them with new straw. However, shortly afterwards, a guard reported to me that the horses had wandered off towards the city gate and it was only with great effort and luck that all of them could be caught and returned into the King’s possession, my Lord.”</p><p>Here, the Stablemaster gave another bow as if he expected gratitude for his quick actions and eloquent report. And so he probably does, Merlin thought miserably.</p><p>The boy was still down on his hands and knees, shuddering, both at the humiliation of such a report and at what it so falsely implied about him. But when the Master had finished, he raised his eyes to the Prince in appeal. Please, let me speak, they begged.</p><p>Arthur looked straight back down at his servant, considered for a moment, conflicting emotions flickering across his features. Then the Prince turned his back towards all of them, staring out of the window. Nevertheless, Merlin’s hope was not disappointed.</p><p>“Speak, Merlin! What do you have to say for yourself?” Arthur commanded.</p><p>Merlin raised himself to his knees, his spine straight as he spoke to the back of the Prince’s head.</p><p>“Sire, what the Master says is true. Only…I did tether the horses properly outside. Of course! I made sure that my knots were tight, Sire, before I went back inside the stables. I don’t know how they escaped.”</p><p>Merlin received a sharp hit on the back of his head and almost landed face-first on the flagstones. Luckily, he threw out his hands in time to prevent the worst.</p><p>“You lying bastard son of a whore. How dare you? You –“</p><p>Merlin looked up at the Stablemaster who was about to rain down further blows. But, quicker than lightening, Arthur was at the man’s side, restraining his raised arm in a tight grip and panting in anger. Oddly, the anger seemed to be directed at the Master.</p><p>“You forget yourself, Sir!” The Prince bit out through gritted teeth. “It is not right for you to mistreat or speak to my manservant in this way. Not only are you insulting him and his mother, who is a good woman, but think about the insult to me, his Master.”</p><p>The Prince let go of the Stablemaster’s hand. The man seemed to have difficulty responding with appropriate courtesy.</p><p>“Sire, I did not insult this serving boy. I was merely truthful.”</p><p>Arthur, once again, seemed riled by this. “Be careful, Sir, that I don’t lose my temper. Speaking falsely to royalty is a capital offence.”</p><p>The Master’s eyes narrowed and a reply was already on his tongue.</p><p>“Arthur, please.” A small and miserable voice interrupted the argument and all stared down at the serving boy to their feet. Merlin’s head hung low and there were tears on his cheeks.</p><p>“The Master is not speaking falsely. I…I am a bastard, Sire. I haven’t got a father. But,” here the boy raised his head minutely in a small spark of defiance, “my mother is not a whore, Sire. You can beat me for this if you like. You can beat me for being a bastard. Or for defying you. Even for what happened to the horses. But I will not allow anyone to speak ill of my mother.”</p><p>There was a long silence. Merlin wondered again how the Prince would think of him, now that the circumstances of his birth were revealed. Or the Stewart. Nervously, the boy lifted his eyes to gauge the men’s reaction to his confession.</p><p>Arthur stared down at him, his expression unreadable. Was that disgust in his eyes? Or pity? Or was the Prince upset?</p><p>The Stewart, on the other hand, did not regard Merlin whatsoever. His eyes were fixed on the Stablemaster and it was the Stewart who first broke the silence.</p><p>“Eric!”</p><p>Merlin lifted his head fully. He had never heard the Stewart talk with such gentleness.</p><p>“Being born a bastard wasn’t this boy’s fault. It is not right for us to judge or punish him because of his birth. No one deserves to suffer for something they are not responsible for. You should know this best of all.”</p><p>Merlin swallowed thickly at the implications.</p><p>“And his illegitimacy does not reflect on Merlin’s upbringing or his skill or his character, wouldn’t you agree?”</p><p>Not in a million years had Merlin ever imagined the Stewart defending and supporting him in this way. Nor could he have fathomed that the Stablemaster could make such a pitiful, vulnerable sound. Like a wounded animal. Merlin felt his heart swell and if he hadn’t still stood accused of endangering and almost losing the King’s horses, he would have maybe tried to comfort the man. After all, Merlin knew exactly what it was like. The words, the gibes, the sticks. He knew it all. He could empathise.</p><p>The Prince, however, brought the discussion back to the matter at hand.</p><p>“How did you tie the horses’ halters, Merlin?”</p><p>Merlin blinked confusedly. “With, with a knot, Sire.”</p><p>“Yes, of course, but which one? Did you use a Bowline, perhaps?”</p><p>“A…? Sorry, Sire?”</p><p>Merlin was slightly shocked when all three men inhaled simultaneously, their expressions clearing. Merlin couldn’t understand what he had said. He felt more puzzled than ever.</p><p>“He doesn’t know his knots!” The Stablemaster exclaimed in surprise and the Stewart – what was the world coming to – chuckled with amusement.</p><p>“It appears not. There, then, lies the root of this almost-disaster. He probably tethered the horses only with a double Overhand.” Turning to the Prince, the Stewart added, “I do not think we can blame Merlin for this, Sire. I am sure, I or the Stablemaster here will be happy to teach the boy his knots in the coming days, if that is your wish.”</p><p>The Prince seemed to think quickly, then gave a curt nod to both of the men in turn. “I appreciate your offer. This once, however, I believe it might be better if my manservant was taught by myself instead. You have both done your fair share in training him and have many other duties to perform. Plus, I believe I could use the reminder.”</p><p>“Of course, Sire.” Both masters bowed, realising that they had been dismissed. Before leaving, the Stablemaster looked down at Merlin and the boy flinched slightly as the man extended his hand to pat him lightly on the back. The man’s jaws worked for a moment but he could not bring the apology to cross his lips.</p><p>Then the two masters left and Merlin’s stomach unclenched with such relief that he almost slumped on the floor. A deep sigh escaped him.</p><p>“Merlin!” Arthur bent down to pick up his manservant, an amused smile playing on his lips. When the two boys stood face to face though, the Prince’s expression became serious again, questioning.</p><p>Merlin knew what this was about and he dreaded what he would have to do. Three weeks ago, he had begged to leave Camelot to escape his suffering. Now, he suffered when he thought about having to leave his Prince.</p><p>“Arthur, I’m so sorry. I should have told you that I was…about my parentage. I didn’t mean to dishonour you. And I…,” Merlin swallowed. “I was afraid of your reaction. But I…I understand if you have to send me away.”</p><p>“Why would I have to send you away, Merlin?”</p><p>Merlin frowned at the Prince. “The people will find out, Arthur. They will find out that I am a bastard and it would damage your reputation if you kept me on as a manservant. I’m sure the King wouldn’t allow it.”</p><p>Arthur was pensive but then he shook his head. “My father, perhaps, that is true. But I don’t care, Merlin. You are you – and there are things in life we don’t have a control over. You didn’t choose to be born a bastard. I didn’t choose to be born a Prince. People will always judge you and talk and gossip. But you can choose to ignore it, that’s what I have learned. I want you to stay.”</p><p>Merlin saw the sincerity in the Prince’s eyes and once again, he felt their destiny at work, coming closer, shining brightly just beyond the horizon.</p><p>“Thank you, Arthur. I want to stay.” Merlin instinctively held out his hand before he could consider the appropriateness of such an action. The Prince, however, did not seem to care but grasped his servant’s forearm to seal the unspoken pact.</p><p>“Now, you better hurry to bring me some lunch, Merlin. I’m starving. Make sure you get some for yourself as well.”</p><p>Merlin smiled widely. “Yes, Sire.”</p><p>“Oh, and afterwards, I would like you to take a long and thorough bath. You smell of horse dung, Merlin!”</p><p>Merlin chuckled and flew out of the door. But before the Prince had had time to turn back to the papers littering his table, his servant’s head appeared yet again in the doorframe.</p><p>“Arthur?”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“What…what the Master said about my mother…She wasn’t…she isn’t a…a whore.” Merlin’s face flushed with obvious anger. “She loved my father but they couldn’t marry. And then he had to leave.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>Merlin bit his lip then shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. My mother never talks much of him.”</p><p>The Prince mumbled something that could have been ‘I know the feeling’ but Merlin couldn’t be sure.</p><p>“Please don’t think badly of her, Arthur.”</p><p>The Prince began to smile. “No. I know you, Merlin. With all your annoying habits and disrespectful chatter – your mother must be an angel to bear raising you. I guess she deserves my admiration.”</p><p>Merlin’s face stretched into a grin. “That she does, Sire!” And he cantered out of the room once again to fulfil his Master’s requests.</p><p>His life in Camelot was surely many things, but never dull or predictable, the boy decided as he moved towards Arthur’s chambers later that afternoon. His hair was still glistening damply and the boy now smelled of fresh soap and clean water.</p><p>Never had a reflection been more true as Merlin literally collided with the next unpredictable thing to step into his way as he rounded a corner. The boy, too thin to stand a chance, landed on his rump and looked up in consternation as he beheld the Captain of the Guard.</p><p>Last he had seen the man, he had been tied by his hands to iron bars in a dungeon cell, thinking that he was going to be either flogged or killed. Instead, the man had used the broadside of his sword to deliver a severe beating because the boy had not brought the guard’s midday meal on time.</p><p>The memory of this now rushed back into the forefront of Merlin’s mind and he cowered on the floor, stammering, “Sir, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you. I’m sorry I was so clumsy.”</p><p>“Merlin.” The man reached down and with one strong arm pulled up the servant.</p><p>Merlin’s body told him to struggle and resist the grip but he knew better than to anger the Captain.</p><p>“Thank you,” the boy said as he stood back on his feet and brushed out his clothes in an attempt to avoid the man’s eyes.</p><p>The Captain gave the boy a moment but then shocked him when he exclaimed,” I have actually come to look for you, Merlin. I need you to come with me.”</p><p>Merlin stopped short and stared. What was this about? What had he done now?</p><p>“Sir?” The boy asked, uncertainly.</p><p>“Come with me now, boy.” The Captain, clearly unused to repeating an order turned around and marched off towards the dungeons.</p><p>Merlin hesitated for a moment but didn’t dare to disobey. He rushed after the man, making sure that he stayed behind him, out of the immediate reach of the Captain’s arm.</p><p>Merlin’s mind was reeling. What was going on? Where was the man taking him and why? When the Captain began descending the damp stairs into the bowels of the castle, a memory resurfaced in the boy’s mind that, for more than a week, he had avoided thinking about: Clarke searching his room and the implications of that.</p><p>Since that day, Merlin had continued to see the young guard and nothing had ever come of Clarke’s strange behaviour that day so Merlin had dismissed it. Perhaps his friend truly had meant to fetch him for lunch and had simply been bored and curious to poke through some of his things. Maybe there wasn’t a deeper meaning or mission to it than that, Merlin had reasoned. Otherwise, surely, something would have happened by now.</p><p>Of course, there were those strange inconsistencies that did not suit the story Merlin had decided to regard as the obvious explanation. But it was so much simpler to avoid these than live in dread that Clarke had been searching for evidence of any illicit activities.</p><p>
  <em>How could you have been so stupid and careless, Merlin?</em>
</p><p>The boy now berated himself silently for not being more cautious and wary of Clarke. For not daring to confront his friend about any of it. Surely, this was why the Captain was now taking him down to the dungeons. Maybe evidence against him had been found and the King had ordered him quietly taken down, locked up and discreetly disposed of. No guards, no chains, just the Captain of the Guard ordering the boy to follow him. That way, Merlin wouldn’t immediately suspect anything and escape with magic.</p><p>It would also preserve the reputation of the Prince who had, after all, been fooled by a dangerous sorcerer for over a month.</p><p>Or perhaps no evidence had been found and the Captain was taking Merlin down to that most dreaded room in the castle, the one with the torture instruments. Perhaps the King meant to get a confession out of the boy this way before publicly executing him.</p><p>Merlin’s breathing was laboured and shallow and he swayed on the spot with these thoughts. This was highly dangerous as he was currently climbing down steep, uneven stairs. Like he had before when he had dropped the tray with the guards’ lunches, the boy almost toppled and was caught by the Captain.</p><p>Although the man had likely preserved the boy’s life, at least for that moment, Merlin could only feel the strong arms that seemed to restrain him.</p><p>“Please, Sir! Where are you taking me?” The boy whispered in terror and struggled to free himself from the man’s grasp.</p><p>Surprisingly, he was let go but the Captain’s next words continued to be ominous,” You will see.”</p><p>“No, no, please.” The boy turned to run up the stairs again, to run away, but he didn’t manage to ascent more than two steps before he felt himself caught again in the man’s iron grip.</p><p>“Merlin, calm down. All I am asking you is to come with me. Nothing will happen to you.”</p><p>But Merlin didn’t believe the man. No one, no one was taken down to the dungeons for nothing.</p><p>“Sir, please. The Prince. He has ordered that everything to do with me has to be reported to him. You need to tell the Prince, Sir.”</p><p>Of course, Merlin realised, if Arthur knew of the accusation of sorcery against his manservant, he wouldn’t be able to help him, likely wouldn’t want to defend him. But there was still a chance, a slim one, that Arthur didn’t know or would listen to him at least.</p><p>Again, Merlin struggled weakly as the Captain continued his descent down the stairs, undeterred by the boy’s arguments.</p><p>“The Prince has nothing to do with this, Merlin. Now come with me.”</p><p>So Arthur likely didn’t know. Once again, Merlin attempted to break free and was rewarded with a small shake and a stern and forbidding look from the Captain.</p><p>“I order you to stop this right now, Merlin. You don’t want to get in trouble with me again, do you?” The impatient edge in the man’s voice was finally enough to subdue the boy and he allowed himself to be led the rest of the way meekly, aware that escape was impossible, further arguments futile.</p><p>Merlin’s eyes widened and his shoulders hunched involuntarily as he was dragged into the familiar guard room. But whereas before, only a few benches had been occupied, the room was now teeming with men in armour and Camelot red. All of their eyes turned on him and Merlin quaked and his breaths became painful gasps.</p><p>In an attempt to avoid their gazes, Merlin cast his eyes to the bright flames in the grate. Once again, he noticed that although the fire was roaring, it was unable to dispel the chill from the underground chamber. Then he saw the figure standing next to the fireplace. Clarke, his face turned towards Merlin. The boy could have sworn that his friend was smiling, looking proud or pleased. But it was hard to tell with Clarke’s figure lit up from behind, his face cast in shadow.</p><p>How could he have been so deceived by the young guard. He truly, truly had thought that Clarke meant well, that he cared for him. He had looked after him in the orchard after the Captain’s beating, had taking on Merlin’s chore of sorting out the potatoes that same evening. He had visited him and joked with him throughout his recovery and afterwards. Merlin shook his head, regretful that he could have been so gullible and reproaching himself for his own idiocy in even now thinking that, surely, all of this hadn’t just been for show. Clarke would have been playing a very long game indeed. And maybe he really had been. Merlin knew, the young guard was certainly smart enough.</p><p>Hurt and deeply distressed, Merlin turned his back on his former friend. It would be easier to face those who had hated him all along, he realised.</p><p>“Sir, please,” Merlin began again, his fear supplying him with strength to make one final attempt, “please tell me what I have done. Why have you brought me here? You need to tell the Prince!”</p><p>At this, all the guards seemed to close ranks around him and the Captain stepped forward.</p><p>Will I be able to fight my way out with magic? There are so many, the boy thought.</p><p>“Merlin, you haven’t done anything at all. We…I…”</p><p>Was the Captain…stammering? It almost seemed as if the man hesitated with something that seemed close to shame. Surely not.</p><p>“We brought you down here because all of us, but especially I, owe you an apology.”</p><p>Whatever Merlin had expected, it wasn’t this. His body responded to the shock by making his knees wobble dangerously. Someone grabbed his frame to steady him and Merlin noticed that the hands were gentle. Looking up, he saw the obviously contrite face of the guard called Morris.</p><p>“Sorry,” the man said and it was evident that he wasn’t apologising for anything he had done now.</p><p>The Captain continued his speech, the guards nodding along to his words solemnly, Merlin standing utterly dumbstruck in the middle.</p><p>“We heard about your ordeal, Merlin, and we realised that we, also, have not behaved justly or kindly towards you. I punished you for your tardiness and all of us blamed you for what you couldn’t help in your weakened state. Clarke also told us that you had been beaten most brutally that very morning in the Royal Gardens.”</p><p>Merlin swallowed but was at a loss how to respond. He felt most awkward being the centre of attention of all the guilty faces around him. At the mention of Clarke, Merlin turned to look over his shoulder and sighed in relief. His friend’s proud smile was now so obviously kind and joyful. Merlin felt certain that Clarke had single-handedly persuaded the rest of the guard, including the Captain, that an apology was necessary.</p><p>The young guard walked up to him, laying his arm in friendship across Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin smiled gently, then elbowed his friend good-naturedly.</p><p>“Merlin?”</p><p>The Captain’s voice alerted the boy to the fact that all these men still waited for a response from him and the awkwardness of the situation was once again overwhelming.</p><p>“Sir, I…I…erm…thank you, everyone. I didn’t expect an apology, truly. And I am still so sorry for making you wait for your lunch and causing you to become so frustrated with me.”</p><p>A chuckle went around the room and Morris, who still stood close to him, assured the boy, ”No harm done in the end, Merlin. Not to us at least. But will you forgive us?”</p><p>Merlin’s throat was too close to form further words without spilling tears down his face. So, he nodded with emphasis and the atmosphere of the room relaxed markedly.</p><p>“Thank you, Merlin,” The Captain continued. “We also decided that we wanted to give you something by way of apology as well. Everyone contributed and Clarke said this is what you most desperately need.”</p><p>At this, a soft, thick bundle was pressed into his hands, tied with string. At first, Merlin thought that whatever was inside had been wrapped in the woollen cloth but as he untied the string, the present unfolded into a warm, large blanket.</p><p>Merlin’s eyes widened as he regarded the beautiful material. Stripes of pure white wool alternated with beige ones and a few darker rows of cloth provided a most pleasant contrast. These darker stripes were furthermore adorned with a white, geometrical pattern of cross-stitching. </p><p>The boy ran his hands over the blanket in admiration and shock. He had never seen or possessed anything so beautiful – and so needed! </p><p>“So, that’s why you were searching my room that day!” Merlin turned in mock outrage to Clarke who took a step back, regarding the serving boy with a somewhat guilty expression.</p><p>“Yeah, sorry. I know I kind of messed everything up but you came back too early. I did mean to tidy up, you know. But I needed to find out what we could get you.”</p><p>Merlin refrained from telling his friend that the disorder he had created in the room had been the least of the servant’s worries.</p><p>“That thin sheet of cloth you sleep under now…you’d be freezing in winter. I bet you’re freezing even now.”</p><p>It was now Merlin’s turn to look sheepish which made the entire guardroom break out in more smiles and chuckles.</p><p>“Well, Merlin. We are glad you like it and please feel free to call on us if ever you are mistreated again. It might not be the same with the servantry in the rest of the castle but we as the guard work as a team and look out for each other.”</p><p>Merlin’s face flushed with embarrassment and gratefulness at the Captain’s words. Then he bowed most courteously and it was genuine.</p><p>“Thank you, everyone. Truly. I love the blanket.” Then the boy shuffled his feet. As much as he appreciated what the guards had done for him, their imposing numbers and figures still made him feel ill at ease. Merlin also thought in shame how often he had already deceived these men with his magic when he had to sneak around the castle. He was sure that it hadn’t been for the last time either.</p><p>“Very well, run along now, Merlin.” And he was dismissed, shot everyone another grateful smile and then bolted out of the room and up the stairs.</p><p>“See you for dinner,” Clarke shouted after him and Merlin smiled to himself.</p><p>
  <em>First, I’ll bring the blanket to my room, then quickly to Arthur, then dinner with Clarke, then bring Arthur his food and prepare him for bed and then I’ll sleep in my warm blanket. Hopefully the dragon won’t wake me up in the middle of the night again…</em>
</p><p>As Merlin lovingly folded the guard’s present at the end of his bed, running his hand once again over its soft surface, he suddenly found that he couldn’t bring himself to regret what had happened to him throughout his first three weeks in Camelot. It had brought him new friends, new learning and the destiny for himself and Arthur loomed closer and more possible. Just around the bend.</p><p>Merlin bounded out of the room towards Arthur’s chambers, already wondering whether he should dish up an excuse for his tardiness or truthfully share the events in the dungeons with the Prince.</p><p>Friendship needs honesty, the boy decided.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you enjoy reading this. I certainly loved writing it even though some parts were really difficult. (Poor Merlin!)</p><p>I LOVE comments so, pretty please (and I am not above begging :D) leave one and tell me what you think.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <span class="u"> The final part - but not necessarily the end. :) </span>
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been about a week since Arthur and his newly-made knights had reclaimed the castle from his sister, Morgause and their undead soldiers. It had been a week since Merlin had spilled the blood in the Cup of Life and hidden Excalibur in a stone in the forest beyond Camelot. It had been a week since Morgana’s strange disappearance and Uther’s confinement to his bed. The King, it was said, had lost all strength or reason and continued to mumble and stare wildly at the canopy above his head.</p><p>Merlin hadn’t seen the King nor did he think about him much. All he worried about was Arthur and how the new Regent would deal with his father’s frailty and possibly imminent demise. So far, remarkably well and Merlin thought that the busyness attached to his new role, the presence and trust of his knights and his now open relationship with Gwen were to thank for that.</p><p>The young man’s reasoning was correct, of course. But yet incomplete as he found out one morning, when he was dressing the Prince.</p><p>Merlin had been busy brushing out one of Arthur’s red jackets while the Prince tried on different shirts behind the dressing screen. Merlin always thought that he was too picky and mocked the Prince, just a little bit, about this vain streak.</p><p>“Decided what to wear yet?” Merlin called to the Prince. Disgruntled noises issued from behind the screen.</p><p>“None of these are right, Merlin. Fetch me another.”</p><p>“Can’t. You’ve seen them all. Except the old blue one.”</p><p>“Bring that one then,” Arthur ordered, sticking his head out from behind the screen, his hair standing oddly on end. He didn’t really look very princely.</p><p>Merlin shook his head sadly. “Sorry, Sire. It’s impossible. The shirt…it’s no longer your size.”</p><p>“What? What happened to it? Did it happen when you washed it?”</p><p>Merlin huffed and turned back around to brushing the jacket. “Nothing happened to IT, Sire. It’s you that’s changed.”</p><p>“Merlin!” The servant chuckled. The Prince had understood his meaning remarkably quickly.</p><p>“Wear the white one, Sire.”</p><p>Arthur disappeared again behind the screen and was heard to pull a garment over his head. Meanwhile, he mumbled in complaint, “You can’t tell me what to do. I’m the Prince.”</p><p>Sure enough, a minute later, Arthur emerged wearing the white shirt and Merlin helped him to put on the jacket. Then he fetched the comb to sort out the royal’s hair. Suddenly, Arthur began to frown and Merlin stepped back, a little shocked.</p><p>“What now? Did I pull your hair…Sire?”</p><p>“I never thanked you, you know?”</p><p>“Thanked…?” Merlin blinked.</p><p>“Rewarded you for your courage. You came with me when I infiltrated the castle. Twice. You stuck with me even when I had to live in a cave and couldn’t offer you anything anymore. You helped Lancelot end the dead army when he emptied and recaptured the Cup of Life.”</p><p>Merlin swallowed and felt himself blush. “It was nothing. Everyone stuck with you. All your knights, Gaius, Gwen. I didn’t do anything noteworthy.”</p><p>Merlin continued to flatten the Regent’s hair, attacking it rather ferociously. Arthur took the comb out of Merlin’s hand and threw it on the bed.</p><p>The servant looked at it over his shoulder, apparently longing to have it back in his hand as an instrument of distraction.</p><p>“Exactly, Merlin. And every single one of these people has been thanked and rewarded. Except you.”</p><p>“But I’m just your servant. I make your bed and bring you dinner and…comb your hair.” Merlin twisted his spine quite dangerously, lunging to reach the comb. Arthur pulled him back around by his shoulders and the servant had to look at him squarely.</p><p>“Ask for anything you want, Merlin, and I’ll grant it. What would you like as a reward?” Arthur stepped back without letting go of Merlin’s shoulders, looking him up and down. “Some new clothes perhaps? A new tunic?”</p><p>“No, really, Arthur. It’s not necessary. And I still have my new tunic, you know, the one Sir Ewan gave me after…after those first weeks in Camelot.”</p><p>Arthur watched Merlin’s eyes momentarily darken and his shoulders twitched a little as if he was physically shaking off the bad memory. He had noticed that this was Merlin’s way to cope. Frankly, the Prince was surprised that Merlin had come out of it all un-traumatised. He had never even heard his servant complain about it. If it was mentioned between them, somehow, Merlin had always found the silver lining. At times, he had even sounded grateful. Merlin was a riddle, always had been.</p><p>“The shirt that Sir Ewan gave you? But that was years ago, Merlin. That’s not new.”</p><p>“Yes, it is. It is still in top condition because I keep it that way. Really, Arthur, I don’t need anything.”</p><p>The Prince set his jaw. Then he dragged his servant to the table and forced him to sit down on a chair. He now stood looming over Merlin, arms crossed like a petulant child.</p><p>“You are not leaving this room until you tell me how I can reward you.”</p><p>“Arthur!”</p><p>“Don’t make this harder than it has to be!”</p><p>Merlin, with an equally petulant expression, had crossed his arms also and looked away and so they continued for a while. It seemed that they had reached an impasse but just when Arthur wanted to resort to more imaginative methods, his servant startled him by suddenly exclaiming, “Can you make Clarke a knight?”</p><p>“Clarke?”</p><p>“Yes, my friend from the guards. He’s been brave and loyal to Camelot ever since I have met him. He is really great with the sword and I think he is way too observant to be a guard anyway. I always have to be extra sneaky when he’s on duty –“</p><p>“Sneaky? What on earth does that mean, Merlin?”</p><p>Merlin grimaced but continued with emphasis, “I want you to knight Clarke. He would be a great addition and his talents are wasted on simple guard duty. Trust me, Arthur! He’s a commoner but…I was hoping that didn’t matter anymore?”</p><p>Merlin bit his lip and regarded the Prince’s face from under his lashes, wondering whether he had asked too much.</p><p>There was a short silence. The Prince was considering.</p><p>“This is what you want, Merlin?”</p><p>“This is what I want!”</p><p>“Nothing for yourself?”</p><p>“This is for me.”</p><p>Another beat passed and Merlin looked at Arthur even more pleadingly.</p><p>“Very well. I will knight Clarke if that is his wish also.”</p><p>Merlin jumped up so enthusiastically that the chair toppled over, almost landing on Arthur’s feet. Thankfully, the Prince was quick and nimble enough to jump out of the way in time.</p><p>“Sorry! Please, can I go tell him now?”</p><p>Arthur clasped his hands in exasperation but couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice when he ordered, “Get out, Merlin, before you destroy everything in my room and manage to murder me in the process.”</p><p>Merlin grinned cheekily. “Yes, Sire.” Then he lithely ran from the room, presumably down to the dungeons.</p><p>Arthur, as many times before, was glad that Merlin was his servant and he his Master. His impertinence would have landed the servant in serious trouble with anyone else. Arthur found it refreshing. And Merlin’s quips always presented such a great opportunity to mock him. Arthur would be so bored with anyone else!</p><p>On the day of Clarke’s knighting ceremony, Merlin hastily penned a letter to his mother.</p><p>
  <em>Dear Mother,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I will soon write you a much longer letter in response to your last one. I didn’t receive it for a while because – have you heard any news about what happened in Camelot recently? If you haven’t, don’t worry. I am safe and all troubles are past for now. I will explain everything. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But I just wanted to let you know that I have finally asked Arthur to knight Clarke (commoners can now become knights) and the dollophead actually agreed. I’m off to see him become a Sir in a moment but he sends his greetings to you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Also, Arthur has given me a new tunic. I mean, I don’t exactly know that it’s from him, but it has to be. I came back from work one day and it just lay folded on my blanket. It’s of the same fine fabric as my new blue shirt but this time it’s deep purple. I am wearing it now and I think it may already be my favourite. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anyway, that’s all the news for now. Come and see me soon in Camelot. I miss you and love you and always think of you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your loving son,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Merlin</em>
</p><p>Merlin folded and tied the letter quickly. He was already running a little late and he would likely still have to scour the entire castle.</p><p>However, in the end, he found the man in black much quicker than anticipated.</p><p>Graham stopped as Merlin bounded up to him, breathless, the missive clutched in his hand and the usual request evident in his eyes: “Will you travel again soon? Can you take my letter?”</p><p>Graham nodded and smiled even before the young man could catch his breath. He took the letter from him and stored it safely in the inside pocket of his jerkin. He also accepted the coin Merlin offered. This, as was their usual custom, would be returned to the Regent who would, in turn, secretly add it again to Merlin’s savings. The young man was never any poorer or any wiser.</p><p>As always, this young man now smiled, asked for warm greetings to be passed on to his mother and finally closed with a kind, “Thank you, Graham!” Then the servant turned and ran down the hall to be just on time for the knighting ceremony of his friend Clarke, the former guard. It would be the first official knighting ceremony since the Lady Morgana and her followers had been vanquished and the first ever knighting ceremony in Camelot that would dub a commoner.</p><p>Well, there were the other knights Arthur had installed in the ruined castle of the ancient kings when he had been in exile but there had been no audience, no fanfares and no festivities afterwards. There had been no time: the morning after, the Prince, his knights and, strangely but naturally, his manservant, had left to rescue the King from the Camelot dungeons and, likely, to die in the attempt.</p><p>They had survived and the army had vanished in one single moment.</p><p>Graham stared after the servant until his brown jacket and dark hair vanished around a corner. As ever, the messenger wondered whether Merlin knew that Graham had been ordered to enable the communication between Camelot and Ealdor or whether the young man still thought that Graham’s frequent travels simply took him by his village.</p><p>The messenger shook his head and smiled softly. Whether or not Merlin knew, it was clear that he was much smarter than the Regent gave him credit for. And he was more skilled…in certain areas. It had taken him a while to put it together but Graham, also, had more intelligence than people thought.</p><p>He had been carrying letters and gifts and admonishments and hugs back and forth between mother and son for nigh on four years now. Early on, he had realised that there was some secret between them, something that meant Merlin was in terrible danger. Hunith’s questions had been marked by equal amounts of over-cautiousness and enigmatic specificity. Had her son gotten into any trouble? What had he done? Who had seen him? Would he, Graham, say that Merlin drew too much attention to himself? Had the King ever taken particular notice of her son? Had the Prince been in danger lately? Had there been any changes in legislation in Camelot recently?</p><p>Merlin’s answers to Graham’s questions had been usually marked by uncharacteristic silence and a promise to put all his answers in his next letter.</p><p>Graham had circled around the secret for so long and it was around the time when the witchfinder came and accused Merlin of sorcery that Graham had first thought: this could be it. He had watched the boy then, carefully. And he had realised two things: Merlin had magic; Merlin was faithful to Prince Arthur, ready to lay down his life for him at any moment.</p><p>Graham was a messenger; it wasn’t his job to convict criminals. And certainly not loyal subjects of the future king. He couldn’t be sure, but sometimes he thought that even if he hadn’t witnessed Merlin’s many protective acts of magic to save the Prince or the kingdom or both, he couldn’t have told on the boy. Merlin was…he couldn’t imagine seeing the boy hang or beheaded or burnt. It was inconceivable. And how would he tell Hunith? Like it or not, he was part of their relationship now. Their affection and care for each other ran through him like a current, back and forth. He couldn’t be the one to break this bond.</p><p>Clarke had agreed.</p><p>Graham had sought out the young guardsman soon after he had realised that Merlin possessed magic powers. At first, Clarke had been reluctant to speak but when Graham promised him that he did not intent to have Merlin arrested, Clarke confessed that he had long known about Merlin’s magic. Once, he had apparently searched the servant’s room for something or other and had come upon a host of magical items under a loose floorboard. But Clarke had vehemently assured him that all he had ever seen his friend do had been in service of the Prince and Camelot.</p><p>And so they had both agreed to watch over Merlin and to make sure that, just as he preserved the Prince, he would be protected by his friends from the shadows.</p><p>Graham entered the door to the throne room last and slid into a corner just as the knighting ceremony began. He smiled at Clarke when he knelt to receive his new red cloak and title. All that day and night at the celebration, Merlin’s bliss and happiness for his friend were infectious. Perhaps it was also the new purple tunic the young man was wearing. He stood out from among the crowd and laughed merrily when Guinevere, the servant girl the Regent had taken into his heart, commented with a wink, “Purple suits you, Merlin.”</p><p>Arthur never regretted his decision to trust Merlin about Clarke. The young commoner possessed and perfected the necessary dexterity and skill handling weapons. He equally embodied all the knightly virtues Arthur aimed to instil in all his men: honour, humility, generosity, loyalty and courage.</p><p>But no one, not even Merlin, could anticipate that in a few years, Clarke’s knighting and his subsequent actions at the Battle of Camlann would make all the difference.</p><p>And it was the young knight’s voice that, aided by Graham, Gwen, Gaius and eventually, even Hunith, would persuade Merlin to finally reveal his secret to the King and thus to bring about the Golden Age of Albion. The King and his magical servant, working side by side, as had been prophesied.</p><p>It would be through Clarke that Merlin and Arthur learned that they had omitted a third of the equation in their calculations. What they had thought only their destiny had been Clarke’s all along just as well. Even the dragon, after living for more than 1000 years, was forced to learn to never again dismiss the importance of the unnoticeables, the common folk, born without magical skill or royal blood, nothing special about them except for what made Clarke just like everyone else: a human being with the capacity to observe and empathise, to listen and to help; to show friendship and kindness and a willingness to sacrifice for what he thought was right and good. For the people he loved. And that made him worthy of a destiny just like all the other unremarkable people who decide to act on this potential to be good. And it made all the difference.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you enjoyed reading this. I certainly loved writing it even though some parts were really difficult. (Poor Merlin!)</p><p>I LOVE comments so, pretty please (and I am not above begging :D) leave one and tell me what you think.</p><p>Massive thanks to all of you who have left reviews already! ❤️</p></blockquote></div></div>
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